


A Crystal Path

by Exposedma



Category: Final Fantasy XIV, Final Fantasy XIV: A realm reborn
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Eventual Sex, F/M, Main story spoilers, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exposedma/pseuds/Exposedma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiloh Mitka has been chosen by Hydalyen herself to walk a specific path. She has been gifted with the Echo, and feels the weight of Eorzea on her shoulders. Now a Scion of the Seventh Dawn after her baffling victory over Ifirit, she has been partnered with an angry and secretive Maelstrom Lieutenant, and her path has become all the more challenging to walk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the retelling of the main story quest from FFXIV, with some added twists and turns. Shiloh is my player character, and Vesuvan belongs to my husband.

The Brambles were a maze of meter high thorns, fallen logs, hollowed and large enough to walk through, and poisonous plants and insects. It was home to wild boar, and dryads, and it smelled of rotting leaves and mushrooms, a favorite porcine meal. Shiloh wondered not for the first time, why the sanctum of the twelve would be in such a place. She looked down at the offerings she held in her hands, three in total, one for each member of her family. The etchings on the fine, flowering branches could barely be seen in the low light. She looked up at the sky, through the leaves and tall thorns, it was blue tinged with orange and red, the sun was setting, although it was nearly dark as night where she was. She cursed not being born a keeper of the moon, then the night wouldn't be a problem, her bright pink eyes blinked back fearful tears, she was lost. What a stupid place for a shrine.

The young Miqo'te scowled then steeled her spine, pressing forward. Her feet were doing their best at finding every unearthed root, and her clothes delighted in finding the thorns, tearing holes, and cutting skin. Tears streaked her dirty face, and she held her offerings close to her body. Little wonder her father had told her she was to stay in Gridania. She had bristled when he called her young, he had called her foolish to want to rush off to war with him and her mother and elder sister. The wizened healer had explained that they fought so she wouldn't have to. Together with her archer mother and lancer sister, they had marched with the Twin Adders to push back the encroaching Imperial Garlean army.

Up ahead, she could see an opening, the newly risen moon shining light on the clearing. Please, please, please. She ran on uneven ground until she was in the clearing, and face to face with a rather large, and unimpressed wild boar. The creature snorted, and shook its tusked head. Small eyes narrowed on her.

"I'm sorry." She squeaked quietly at the agitated beast.

The apology was met with cloven hooves stamping the ground. Shiloh looked to either side of her, and then back through the hollowed tree trunk she had come through. She wouldn't be able to out run the animal by running back the way she came. The night filled with the snorting of the boar, the stamping changed cadence when it began to charge, Shiloh squeezed her eyes shut, frozen by fear. Wake up, stop, it's a dream. But the sounds of the beast didn't abate. Stop, she covered her head, she was screaming in fright without knowing it, her throat raw, her final breath. She was a foolish and young girl, she should have listened to her father, she should have listened to her grandmother and waited for an escort to the shrine. She was about to die for her stubbornness and pride.

Her screaming was joined by an even louder and high pitched squeal. Her eyes snapped open, half a meter in front of her was the boar, screaming its own death throws, small legs kicking feebly. Its thick side was speared through the heart, and on the other side of that spear stood its wielder. Strong hands held the weapon in place, fangs bared, black tipped ears pressed flatly against head, long tail swishing and snapping like a whip. White eyes lifted from his prey and bore into her, and all Shiloh could do was blink.

"Get up and get behind me!" Ordered the gruff, deep, voice of the lancer wearing the Twin Adder livery.

Shiloh looked from him, then to the still struggling boar, and scrambled to her feet, doing exactly as she was told. Once safe, the Miqo'te lancer, pulled his spear from the boar, the animals blood sprayed from the fatal wound. He spun and thrust in a dance Shiloh had observed her sister execute a thousand times on training dummies, there had never been another life on the receiving end of her spear, Shiloh soon learned it was the dance of death her sister had trained so hard to learn. The lancer grunted and growled as the spear parried and deflected sharp tusks from the mortally wounded boar. The two circled each other wearily, the boar leaving a trail of crimson in its wake, short legs shaking, squealing with each breath. The spear spun furiously until it pierced the animals soft throat with such force it pierced all the way through to the other side, bloodied tip glistening red, ending the high pitched squealing once and for all. The forest was eerily quiet, the heavy breathing of her rescuer seemingly too loud in the sudden aftermath. She realized she was holding her breath and let out a long shuddering sigh. The lancer looked over his shoulder, pulling his spear from the beast with a sickening crunch, wiping the blood from the blade.

"Shiloh Mitka?" He asked, no preamble in his tone, direct and to the point, a hint of annoyance even.

Shiloh nodded, she looked at him, spattered in blood; his eyes, upon closer inspection were icy blue, not white as she had initially thought. He grunted, and grabbed her by her upper arm and started walking. He held her tightly, fingers smearing her ripped tunic with boar blood. He was leading her away, and Shiloh rebelled against the idea, pulling away, after how far she'd come, after all this, she wasn't going to just turn back.

"Stop, I need to go to the Shrine." He seemingly ignored her, her struggling ineffective within his vice grip. "Would you let go! You're hurting me!" He looked sidelong at her, and released his grasp.

"My orders were to find you, and bring you back to Gridania. Not to entertain a petulant child by bringing her to the Sanctum of the Twelve in the middle of the night. The brambles are hardly a place to be wandering at the best of times." He gave her a stern look. "And I will carry you over my shoulder if you don't come of your own free will." A warning.

The promises she made to the twelve when she thought she was about to die were forgotten, she lifted her head chin jutting out, making herself as big as her fourteen year old frame would allow.

"You bring me back, and I'll just run off and go looking for the sanctum again. It would be easier to just bring me there, so I can make my offerings, and then bring me back." Her statement earned her a raised eyebrow.

"Or I could bring you back, and let you die if you're truly foolish enough to run back here again." He cocked his head, with a hand on his hip. He wasn't buying the bluff.

"But we're so close! Please! It's for my family, my parents and my sister left this morning for the front." Petulance gave way to desperation; she wiped away traitorous tears marking her youth and her helplessness.

"You're not the only one with family who left for the front today." His voice was quiet, tinged in anger.

It dawned on Shiloh that he had been left behind as well, upon closer inspection, under the blood and bravado he wasn't much older than she was. Sixteen or seventeen, still a cadet, left behind to guard the Shroud while the seasoned soldiers fought in the war.

"Listen, Shiloh, I'll bring you to the Sanctum tomorrow morning. The boar will attract scavengers, it would be stupid to stay any longer." His voice became kinder as he tried to reason with the younger girl in front of him.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He sighed in annoyance.

"What's your name? A promise has no weight if I can't hold you to your word." She was still suspicious; worried he was just trying to pacify her to bring her home.

"Vesuvan Nijian."


	2. Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiloh and Vesuvan meet again years later, under less then perfect circumstances. They are given their first orders by Admiral Merlwyb and must come to an understanding if their journey is to be at all tolerable.

The mornings were always too bright in Limsa Lominsa, the way the sun reflected off of the white limestone and invaded every crevice. Vesuvan squinted his eyes, Seeker of the sun or not, his head was pounding. He spied the leavings of the night before, three empty bottles, his armor on the floor. He looked to the other half of the bed, empty, but her scent remained, the sweet little Hyur serving wench, Sylvia, Serena, Sarah…Something with an S. Didn't matter, he had paid her, and she had delivered. The wine and her soft flesh had eased his sour mood, and softened the blow of his new orders. Only now, in the glaring light of a new day, his orders remained, he was a few hundred Gil shorter than before, and all he had to show for it was a hangover.

He groaned loudly and stretched his sore muscles. He splashed cool water onto his face, tracing the scar over his left eye, the way the skin there was raised, faded but always present. A tangled mess of dark blue and white fell into his eyes, the little minx had unbound his hair, he must have been drunker then he thought to have allowed that. He turned and let himself fall forward, pumping his arms in a quick succession of push-ups to get his blood moving, to get the sweat that still stank of wine to leave his body.

The man who left his room wore an almost ever present scowl, his heavy armor and a great axe on his back marked him as a warrior. He held his helmet under one arm, despite his rank of Storm Lieutenant, Vesuvan Nijian was not well known among his cohorts, having been an operative in deep cover for the past six months, infiltrating the Garleans. He received the salutes due his rank as he walked past the other Maelstrom soldiers, still his ears twitched. People always underestimated Miqo'te hearing, and he invariably caught words meant to be whispered, words he wasn't meant to hear. He wasn't trusted; spies rarely were, even when they returned home.

Shiloh stared at the Admiral. She had joined the Maelstrom thanks to her words, something in the stately Roegadyn had inspired her. She had finally found the courage to leave Gridania, after everything that had happened, becoming a Scion, fighting alongside Thancred, defeating Ifirit, she had proven herself more than capable. She had felt that perhaps the Maelstrom, with their pirate heritage had the most to offer her. Of the three grand Companies, they would treat her as an ordinary soldier, not as a great mystery, not as something special to be handled with care. A pit was forming in her stomach, the ink was barely dry on the parchment she had signed, the words of allegiance still fresh in her mouth.

"Escort? Admiral, I don't understand?" Shiloh asked.

"The admiral's words were plain enough. You're new to military service, so this transgression can be forgiven, but as a rule, do not question the orders of your superiors." A low voice rumbled behind her.

"Lieutenant, perfect timing." Admiral Merlwyb, tilted her head in welcome to the stranger standing at the door. "This is the Scion I was telling you about yesterday, and our newest recruit."

Shiloh turned towards the man she was being introduced to, her bright pink eyes defiant, chin jutting out, she stood as tall as her small frame would allow to face the person who had reprimanded her. He was armored with a great axe Shiloh could scarce wonder could be lifted, let alone be carried around on his back. His expression was blank, stoic, cold, his ice blue eyes sending shivers through her. She averted her eyes, only to look back, there was something familiar about him, she tilted her head, a memory refusing to surface.

"Shiloh, this is Second Storm Lieutenant Vesuvan Nijian, he will be accompanying you in your assignments for both the Maelstrom and the Scions. We have good reason to believe the Garleans have planted spies within the Grand companies, and that they are targeting you. The lieutenant is something of a Garlean expert, and I trust him implicitly with this task."

Shiloh nodded, she was a fool to think she would go unnoticed, that she would be able to slink into anonymity. She was hoping the over eager recruiters, and Minfillia had simply been exaggerating.

"Vesuvan, it seems we'll be spending some time together." She extended a hand and forced a smile.

"Private, you will address me as Lieutenant Nijian, and salute before speaking." He turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving her standing in the room, hand extended.

"yes, sir." She whispered miserably, she had made a terrible mistake.

She looked back at the Admiral, who only gave her a small smile and a wink. She inhaled, and straightened her spine. Second Storm Lieutenant Vesuvan Nijian wasn't about to break her.  
***

Floating Gyshal greens, Yda had described them perfectly, Little Solace glowed even in broad daylight, she closed her eyes and inhaled the wet scent of the place, fresh rain on newly blossomed flowers, Shiloh wished she could bottle the air, and wear it as a perfume. There were concerns regarding the Sylphs and the resurrection of Ramuh, that being said, the Sylph tribe was for the most part peaceful, and it was a diplomatic mission. The problem was that the Sylph elder was missing, and diplomacy had halted. Two weeks, earning the trust of the diminutive beast tribe to discover that the elder had been taken, and was most likely being held in the ancient prison known as the Thousand Maws of Toto Rak.

"Dancing one and Grumpy one will bring the elder back?" Noraxia asked in her flitting voice.

Shiloh bit her tongue, but she couldn't suppress the smile. Behind her, leaning on a tree she could feel Vesuvan's scowl. She assured the Sylph that they would. She took a deep breath and put on an indifferent and blank expression, before turning to her most reluctant companion.

"Dancing one, try to make Grumpy one smile, just as you made us smile." Noraxia called after her.

"Would that I could, dear friend." She mumbled under her breath.

She waved to a bickering Yda and Papalymo, and nodded to Vesuvan who pushed off the tree he was leaning on with a booted foot. They walked in uncomfortable silence, it had been this way since leaving Limsa Lominsa, curt orders, single word answers, if he answered at all, and silences that tore through the landscape. Shiloh could recognize his heavy footsteps with her eyes closed, she had grown accustomed to falling asleep to the scraping of whet stone on blade. Yet since arriving in Gridania, there was even more of a cloud that hung over him, as if the Shroud itself had offended him. His long ears twitched, incessantly, his tail was in constant motion, and the ice in his eyes felt like daggers.

"The entrance to the Thousand Maws is a day's ride away." She looked up at the sky, it was already noon, they would need to make camp before they reached their destination.

Hex, Vesuvan's Chocobo, called out to her, waking Dexter, her own mount. She patted Hex on the beak before climbing onto Dexter's back. Hex was the only creature Shiloh had ever seen Vesuvan show affection or kindness to. Hex greeted her master with a happy 'Kweh, Vesuvan answered her call with a gentle scratch under her chin, and ruffled the feathers on her neck. It was their wordless greeting to each other.

"Let's go." He touched his heels to the birds' side.

"Yes sir." Shiloh inhaled the sweet scent of the place one more time, and urged Dexter forward.

The chocobo's trotted into the Brambles. They had grown even wilder in the past five years, the elements grown restless, the animals more dangerous. Once, when she was little more than a child, she had almost been felled by a wild boar in this very place, if not for the well timed rescue of a young lancer. Vesuvan halted their advance, and dismounted, preferring to guide their mounts through the tall thorns on foot, rather than risk injuring them.

"Get behind me." Vesuvan ordered.

Shiloh's eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, she knew there was something familiar about her sour Lieutenant. He was the very same young lancer who had rescued her six years past. Dexter nudged her, and whistled, trying to urge his strange mistress to move forward.

"Private Mitka!" Vesuvan growled out to her.

"It was you, I had forgotten, you saved me from that boar, you were a lancer, even then you were angry…always so angry." She blinked up, putting a hand to her temple. Those ice blue eyes narrowed at her.

"This is hardly the time to reminisce." Vesuvan stepped forward; "Private, get it together."

"You didn't keep your promise." She mumbled, the Echo was on her, voices, and sounds of another place and time flooded her senses and she was no longer in the Brambles.

Vesuvan couldn't get to her before she collapsed to the ground. He knew she was having a vision, Minifillia had pulled him aside before they left for the Shroud, told him what to expect, what an episode looked like. Her eyes were darting in all direction under her closed lids, her breathing was irregular, her ears moving in the direction of sounds he could not hear, the tips of her fingers and the end of her tail twitched. Vesuvan steepled his fingers in front of his face, pressing the tips to his forehead. He exhaled before picking up the prone mage, cradling her in his arms.

"I had good reason to not keep that promise, you petulant girl." He mumbled annoyed.

He looked around, he knew the Shroud as well as his own hands, he had grown up here as well, had trained as a lancer, before…before everything changed. He whistled to Hex, and Dexter followed closely, quirking his head at his fallen mistress. It wasn't far, the Sanctum of the Twelve, and it would be a safe place for her to rest while in her current state. Her head lolled and fell against his chest plate with a soft thud.

"I guess some things don't change, you're still an annoying pain in the ass, Shiloh Mitka." He made his way through the brush towards the place she had been so desperate to reach all those years ago.

He kept a close eye on his charge, they were his orders after all. She and this echo were instrumental in defeating the Primals, the three Grand Companies all agreed she was an important war asset. He reached the calm waters that surrounded the Sanctum, he was greeted by an elderly Elezen, who gave him the use of one of the alcoves. He laid her down on one of the stone benches, and waited.  
***

Blink.

She watched her fourteen year old self, and a young Vesuvan, he delivered her safely to her home.

"Hey, Vesuvan, thank you." She said through veiled lids.

"You're an annoying pain in the ass, Shiloh." He looked down on her, and smiled when she gave him an indignant scowl. He put a hand on her blue and pink head and ruffled her hair. "You're welcome."

Blink

The lancers guild, grim faces, Vesuvan, confused.

"Something happened, Ves, you need to come now, there isn't much time."

"What's going on?" Fear in his voice.

"It's about your father…and your brother."

Fear in his face

Blink

"He's a survivor, of your father and brothers company. He will succumb to his wounds before the night is out; he wished only to speak with you, Vesuvan."

"I don't understand, they left this morning, what do you mean survivor?" Fear gave way to panic.

She watched his young face distort momentarily before he summoned the strength to calm himself. Vesuvan entered the infirmary room, an Elezen, pale and near death was in the bed.

"Coren, what happened?" Vesuvan's voice was shaking, despite his greatest effort.

"Sit down Ves, I'm not rightly sure myself. All I know is what I saw, and what I heard." Coren gave the Miqo'te a sad look.

"We were ambushed, the Garleans were expecting us. They took us by the flanks and from behind, and then the formation broke apart, soldiers dying everywhere. I saw." He paused, pained by both memory and wound.

"I saw your brother, I saw Voja, spear your father through the chest. He fought beside the Garleans, not against them. They thought I was dead, they weren't entirely wrong, but I listened, boy, your brother, he betrayed us, he's with them. I go to rejoin the crystal, but you, you can make this right. Vengeance Vesuvan, don't let us die in vain. Promise me, your father, promise..." Coren was gripping Vesuvan's arm, his nails digging into flesh, he had hung onto what remained of his life to deliver this message.

"I promise, Coren. I'll find him, I'll make it right." His voice was quiet, his face pale. He made an oath he wasn't sure he could fulfill. "By the Twelve Coren, and the Crystal, I'll make Voja answer for his crime."

He waited gripping Coren's hand. He watched his father's oldest friend pass to the other side.

Blink.

A room destroyed, furniture broken, glass shattered, sitting in the middle of the storm, in anguish, was Vesuvan, shoulders shaking, face gripped in his hands.

"What did you do Voja?"

Blink.  
***

She took a deep gasp of air, as if she could finally breath after being submerged in water just beyond the capacity of her lungs. The scraping of whetstone on metal stopped. She brought a hand to her face before opening her eyes, they were damp, and she hurriedly wiped away the tears that streaked her face before facing the man who had been the subject of her vision. She sat up slowly, she felt his eyes on her, analyzing. She hugged herself, and took stock of her surroundings, she stood up and stretched, her knees were weak, but she forced herself to walk.

She couldn't bring herself to look at Vesuvan, more than anything she felt like an intruder, that she had seen something not meant for her. She leaned against a stone pillar and looked at the giant round fresco of the Twelve, all the symbols aligned with their respective seasons. The Echo was never readily clear, she saw things that could not be explained until later. She ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it by the roots and pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

"That bad?" Vesuvan's low voice broke the silence.

"Something like that." She replied, with a lowered gaze that refused to meet his ice.

"Here, eat." He handed her a bowl of stew, a film had formed on the top and it was tepid at best.

She accepted the bowl, confused.

"The Sanctum keeper brought some over while you were still down." Vesuvan explained.

She made a small and silent oh with her lips. She took a step towards the bench so she could sit and tripped on an upturned stone. Vesuvan stepped in grabbing the hand holding the stew and pulled it away, it sloshed over both their fingers, an arm went around her waist holding her up until she found her footing again.

"Easy, private." Vesuvan said gruffly, guiding her back to the bench before releasing her, and returning what remained of her stew. "Are you always this clumsy after having a vision?" He handed her a small wooden spoon.

"Thanks" She mumbled.

She had a spoonful, it would have been an excellent meal had it been hot. Even so, her stomach churned with both hunger and anxiety, she took another bite, and heard Vesuvan exhale, or sigh and go back to his axe. In another instant the long scrap of stone on blade resumed. Shiloh chanced a look at him, his ever present scowl seemed deeper than before, she could see his jaw clenching and unclenching under his cheeks. Her eyes went to his hands, free of their usual armored gloves, the steel of his axe glinted in the late afternoon light casting a long shadow. The axe was double edged, a powerful but dangerous weapon to wield. She watched it happen, one second his hand was gripping the whet stone, gliding across the blade, the next, she saw the stone fall from his grip, and liquid crimson bloom from his hand. His loud cursing broke her from her trance.

"Who's clumsy?" She hurried over to his side to take a closer look at the wound.

"It's nothing" He growled out, applying pressure to where he had cut himself.

"That's a lot of blood for nothing. Let me see." She reached and grabbed his wrist, pulling the bloodied hand towards her.

"Back off, Private, I told you it's nothing." He raised his voice, yanking at his hand.

Shiloh pulled back harder, and slapped her own hand over the cut, making sure the contact stung. Vesuvan cursed again, turning the icy blue daggers that dwelt in his eyes on her. She met his gaze with a stubborn glare, and her own curled lip. She called on the elements to fill her with the power she needed to heal the cut on his hand.

"My name is Shiloh." She dug her nails into his wrist that was holding him in place. The Aether began to move within her and a pale green glow enveloped her hand, stitching ligaments and muscle back together.

"What?" he growled to her, annoyed.

"My name. Shi-Loh. It's not hard, use it." She pressed her hand onto the wound, it earned her a sharp intake of breath, flared nostrils and two flattened ears on the top of his head, his deep blue and black tail was a blur, whipping furiously.

She chanced looking down at the hand, the skin was still split, but she was confident she got to it before there could be any permanent nerve damage.

"It's fine now, back off, Private Mitka." He hissed at her.

"It's not fine, you're not fine, I'm a White Mage, this is what I do, so let me bloody fix you, and my name is Shiloh, you stupid, stubborn man." Her pink eyes flashed, neither Miqo'te was backing down, however.

"It's just a damn cut! Do you want to know how many times I've been cut? Too many to count, it's a hazard with working with a blade, I won't repeat myself again. Stand Down!" He grasped the wrist of the hand she was using to heal.

"The Echo gave me a vision about you." She nearly yelled in his face.

They stood half kneeling and sitting glaring at each other, the remaining sliced skin stitched itself up, and Shiloh released him, returning to the other side of the alcove almost shaking in anger and frustration.

"Me? Why? Why would you have a vision of me?" His voice had lost some of its bite, but it was weary, and guarded.

"I have no idea, I don't get to pick and choose the visions I get, but they always mean something, they're always important, you're important, I don't know how or why yet…but you are." She paced washing her bloodied hand with a damp cloth. "So if I see you spurting blood everywhere, I'm going to heal you, get used to the idea, and for the love of the Crystal, call me by my name."

"What exactly did you see?" He was looking down at his healed hand, rubbing the thin scar with his thumb.

"I saw the night you learned of your brother's betrayal." Her voice had suddenly lost its harshness, her face creased at the memory of what she had seen. There had been tears in her eyes, she had cried for him, the strength of his emotions in that profoundly private moment had been overwhelming, but pity was hardly something she would offer a man like Vesuvan Nijian. Not because he didn't deserve it, but because she knew he would not accept it.

"I see." He nodded slowly, flexing his hand. "What happens next?"

"We carry on, the reason will reveal itself in time, it always does." She looked up at the sky, clouds were hastening the night, there was a heavy damp scent in the air, it was going to rain. "We should hurry if we want to reach Quarrymill before the rain."

"Yeah." He pulled his gloves on, strapped the axe to his back and untied Hex. "Let's go Priva…Shiloh."


	3. Thousand Maws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiloh and Vesuvan head into the ancient prison known as the Thousand Maws of Toto Rak. They find far more then what they were expecting.

Vesuvan had lost track of time, in the darkness that existed in the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak, there was no way to determine day and night, no sun or stars to track. There was only the stench of miasma and the crunch of bones and carapaces. He and Shiloh were covered in a thick layer of green sludge that made moving difficult. Still, he continued to press forward, swinging his axe at the creatures that stirred at their presence. Every swing was punctuated by the hard crack of stone, or a gust of wind, as Shiloh channeled the elements to fight for her, her voice was quiet but constant, murmuring the words needed to bring forth the natural phenomena. He could feel a light hand on his back of forearm, and he would be enveloped in warmth, fortified.

"Don't forget about yourself." He looked over his shoulder at her, voice sharp.

"I'm not the one running headlong into a swarm of yarzon, I'm fine." She gave him a smile, wiping away the sweat at her brow, but leaving a slick streak of green on her forehead instead. "I'm taking the longest bath ever when this is done."

Vesuvan raised an eyebrow, lifted a gauntleted arm and patted Shiloh gently on the head, leaving big gobs of green slim in her hair.

"I hate you." She growled out to him.

He chuckled quietly before lowering the visor on his helmet pushing forward. He could no longer see the beginning of the corridor they were travelling down, nor could he see an end. Vesuvan could hear the skittering of creatures all around him, feel the eyes staring, questioning why he was here. They slipped through the filth, fighting their way through for what could have been either minutes or hours; until the corridor finally opened up into a large chamber. The scent was even stronger, broken egg sacks oozed and the entire room was covered in webbing. Standing in the center of the room was a man clad in black wearing a red mask. Vesuvan's ears flattened on his head and he gripped his axe, his lips thinned and curled revealing pointed Miqo'te fangs, the fur on his tail stood on end, and he felt a chill run through him, something inky and dark.

Shiloh stopped in her tracks, laying a hand on Vesuvan's arm; he saw her lift a hand to her head a pained look on her face. He adjusted his positioning so that he was between Shiloh and the masked man. Now was not the time for her to have an episode. Her hand tightened on his arm, and he felt what he could only describe as light warmth, not like her healing power. It was something more, something far more potent than the healing abilities of a White Mage. As dark as the masked man was in front of them, so too was Shiloh emitting a preternatural light, a natural reaction to evil, the darkness's natural enemy, and opposite. He would later learn that the Echo was so much more than just visions.

"Who are you?" Vesuvan asked in a low warning tone.

A deep oily voice spoke in a language he could not understand, he felt Shiloh's hand tighten on his arm, and chanced a glance back at her, her eyes were narrow, any weakness she may have experienced suppressed or forgotten.

"He is the darkness. Careful Vesuvan, he has power, I've met one like him before, but their power was nowhere as potent as his." Shiloh stepped forward.

"I am Lahabrea of the Acians, and your tale ends here, Shiloh Mitka, champion of the Light. All lights extinguish, first yours, Hydaelyn next, all that will remain is the one true God." The room was filled with acrid smoke, a manifestation of evil. He cast a spell in his oily voice and summoned a great diremite.

"Yours has been an interesting story, one that comforts children in the dark of night, soon to be relegated to legend only. Die now. You will go no further." In the next instant the smoke enveloped him, leaving Shiloh and Vesuvan alone with the huge angry insect.

There was no time to think as giant pincers descended on them, both Miqo'tes dodged the attack. Shiloh landed with a grunt, she felt something warm run down the inside of her robe, and looked to see a tear and blood running down her side. She stood with a wince releasing her staff from its sling on her back. Vesuvan rolled, lowering his visor and swinging his axe in one fluid motion, parrying the pincer away from him. The axe sparked and ground against the hard carapace, before he ducked and swung hard letting momentum move him, and pulling the insects attention to him. Vesuvan was fierce, his upper face hidden by the darkness of his helmet, teeth bared, he let out a guttural roar at the creature, running headlong into it, the sharp blade of his weapon sparking along the stone floor, before it was hoisted high into the air in an arcing swing aimed at the creatures eyes.

With both hands on his axe his sides were exposed, Shiloh called on the hardened earth, and covered Vesuvan in a stone carapace of his own. It was unneeded, as the warrior dodged with a deftness she had not expected from one covered in plate armor. The axe dug into a set of eyes and the diremite hissed and screeched an unholy sound. The long pointed and poisoned tail swung wildly, trying to attack that which had wounded it, Vesuvan placed a booted foot on the creature, pulling his weapon from the hard head with a sucking squelch, he swung again, with another battle cry, burying his axe in even deeper than before. Shiloh called on the wind and pushed the tail away before it could land a lucky hit on Vesuvan. Their eyes met for a split second, white lights through the dark helmet, he nodded to her and swung and jumped with deadly grace slicing the poisoned tip right off. The diremite screeched and swung, throwing Vesuvan from his perch on its oozing head. He hit the wall with a force that knocked his breath from his lungs, he heard something crunch inside of his armor, and tasted blood in his mouth. He landed on the hard floor and spit crimson before charging again. Shiloh called on the earth once again, and the ground shook, like a great hand it enveloped the diremite, encasing it before exploding, shards of earth blown in every direction. As soon as the creature was exposed Vesuvan was in the air, axe high over his head, teeth bared. The axe landed splitting the hard diremite shell, and burying itself deep within the exposed flesh. The pincers, and tail landed with a hard thud, the giant insect dead were it lay.  
***

The Sylph elder Frixio was returned safely to Little Solace and an accord made between the Gridanians and the diminutive and leafy beast tribe. Ramuh was not a threat, Frixio even went so far as to relinquish the crystal shard needed to resurrect him, gifting it to Shiloh, recognizing her as special and chosen by Hydalyn. She dipped further into the steaming bath, the filth of Toto-rak sloughing off of her. She had healed both herself and Vesuvan. All that remained was an uneven scar snaking across her side. As for Vesuvan, she wasn't sure. He had refused to remove his chest plate allowing her to fully heal him, insisting whatever surface heals she could channel were enough. He continued to cough blood, careful to hide it from Shiloh, but she noticed, and could see how he would not stand as tall, how he hid his wincing, and ground his teeth against obvious pain.

"Stubborn fool." She mumbled to the tiled bathroom walls.

Her bath was scented with a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon, it was heady and rich and she closed her eyes enjoying the warmth her senses were experiencing. Her mind wandered to the masked man and his oily voice speaking it's strange tongue, she made mention of him to Yda and Papalymo, and the look that had crossed the Lalafell's face had sent chills down her spine. Minfillia had contacted them through Linkshell, asking for a full report, in person. They had purchased their airship tickets when they returned to the Adventurers guild, the ship left the following morning.

Once satisfied that all traces of stinking insect miasma were gone she got out, the oils leaving her skin silken, steam rising off of her. She wrapped herself in a thick woolen robe and slippers, content to do nothing at all for once. A warm meal had arrived while she had been soaking, and she smiled her stomach complaining loudly. The room was silent save for the light bubbling of the in room fountain, so the crash felt all the louder coming from the wall that was shared with Vesuvan's room. She heard him grunt, and curse, and a pained cry trying desperately not to escape angered lips. She let out a sigh, looking longingly at her food, took two hasty bites before hurrying over to his room. She knocked on his door, and was greeted with more cursing and a yell to be left alone. Shiloh rolled her eyes.

"Vesuvan, it's Shiloh. Let me in." Her voice was stern, if he had let her heal him properly, she wouldn't be standing outside his room in nothing but a bathrobe and slippers.

"I said I'm fine!" He barked back through the door.

The back and forth was starting to garner looks from other patrons, and Shiloh could feel her cheeks starting to burn, she should have taken the extra time to put on at least some light linen clothes before leaving her room. She knocked on the door again, stronger, slightly more desperate.

"Open this door, or I'm getting Miounne and her master key." Shiloh hissed at the injured and stubborn Miqo'te. The proprietress looked up upon hearing her name, cocking an eyebrow.

The latch clicked and the door opened, and Shilohs nose was assaulted by the stench she had spent so much time painstakingly getting rid of. Vesuvan hunched and was clutching his side, he was still in his dirty armor. His pale eyes met hers before they lowered.

"I can't take my armor off." He admitted in a barely audible voice. Shiloh shook her head, putting her face in her palm.

"I told you, you should have let me heal you properly, who knows how much damage could have happened between now and then." She lectured, closing the door and surveying his room. He glared at her.

She put an arm around him and guided him to a chair, getting green slime all over her clean robe. His helmet and gloves were off, but the long intricate boots and the chest plate buckles were still tightly fastened. She got to work at his shoulders, unhooking and unbuckling. As she worked her way along the side she spied a dent. When all the buckles and clips were free, she hoisted the heavy piece off of him to a deep exhale. Underneath he was wearing a sweat stained and bloodied tunic. She handed him a glass of water and with nothing but a look, ordered him to drink. She knelt and got to work on the boots, freeing him of his shell link by link. When all was left was his linen shirt and light linen pants she turned her attention back on the huge bruise on his side, the colours so deep and dark they could been seen through his shirt.

Shiloh went to lift his shirt to take a closer look at his bruise, but her hand was stopped, Vesuvan grabbed her wrist, once again preventing her from healing him. She leveled her eyes at him, and all he did was shake his head, with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"You're bleeding internally. I've seen you cough up blood. By the looks of the bruise just through your shirt, you probably have at least one broken rib. I can't promise it won't hurt to fix, but it needs to be done." She placed her other hand over the fingers grasping her wrist, and pulled them away. "You need to trust me Vesuvan."

Shiloh mumbled words, calling on nature to aid her in repairing the stubborn Storm Lieutenant. She folded his shirt up, exposing the entirety of the injury, he eyebrows knitted together running a feather light hand over the dark black, blue, and purple marking. He took a sharp intake of breath, as she flattened her palms over the area, the light green glow enveloped her hands, then danced and probed beneath his skin, finding the punctured organs, repairing the broken bone, stemming the bleeding. She looked up from her work to find Vesuvan looking down at her, his face was pained but questioning. He dropped a hand and a moment later he had brought her robe back up, onto her shoulder. Shiloh had been so absorbed in removing his armor and healing his wound that she hadn't even noticed her robe drop off of her shoulder. She looked away cheeks hot, face red, and tried to refocus on the task at hand.

When she finished the only evidence of Vesuvan having had an injury was a fist sized bruise. She stood up from kneeling and stretched her back. She went to his rooms bathroom and started running the water, folding a towel over a chair.

"Get in the tub, you stink, I'll ask Miounne about having an armourer clean and repair your gear, and will have a hot meal sent to your room…" She was pacing the room arms crossed, picking things up and placing them on the table, then moving them, looking anywhere but at the man who was staring at her. "Your ribs and side will be sore for a couple of days, but no worse than a regular bruise, you really need to be more careful, and next time just tell me…We make a good team, but you need to trust me…" she heard the chair slide against the hard wood floor and Vesuvans padded towards her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Thank you, Shiloh." His low tenor was far too soft for her liking, and she bit her lower lip.

"It's what I do." She looked up at him giving a half quirked smile. "You're welcome."

Her bright pink eyes were pulled into a sea of ice blue and she forced herself to blink and cough, stepping away, his hands fell off of her shoulders, and she hurried out of his room, back to the safety of her own.

"Don't look at me like that, you idiot." She mumbled to herself, before deciding if she wanted to eat her now cold meal, or take another bath.  
***

The acrid smoke clung to her, snaking around her limbs and waist, invading her nose, her mouth, her ears. It was heavy but insubstantial, her lungs filled with the black plumes and she couldn't breathe. The smoke in her ears fizzed and a voice was injected directly into her mind, thick black oil. She couldn't move, her eyes couldn't open, she started to panic, she couldn't breathe.

"Champion of Light. A powerful vessel. More powerful than this one. She will serve. Champion, you will serve." Lahabrea's voice echoed in her skull, painfully crowding out her thoughts, crowding out her being.


	4. Nightmares and Blood Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The encounter with Lahabrea has left Shiloh shaken and unsettled and most of all angry. She finally allows herself to channel that anger when they venture into the foreboding Haukke Manor.

Shiloh's lungs were close to bursting and she shook her head emphatically, no she would not serve, but the thought was drowned out as soon as it entered her head, had she even denied him? Her skin was crawling, it felt stretched on the verge of tearing away from her, ripping at the seams, and she wanted to scream, but all that entered her mouth was more smoke, filling her to bursting, denying her air. Desperate fear coursing through her instead of blood, she couldn't breathe.

"Shiloh, wake up!" A distant voice called to her.

Tears sprung to her eyes, she was dying, the smoke would choke her, and she would no longer be herself, she would die, replaced by the inky black voice.

"Shiloh, it's a bad dream, open your eyes." The voice was deep, but distant.

She felt her body convulsing, shaking, and again, she tried to scream. She didn't want to die, not like this, she still had so much to do, so much to see. The more she shook the more the smoke seemed to dissipate and fall away from her. The distant voice became stronger, the chill of the smoke was replaced by firm warmth. The voice kept telling her to open her eyes, and she wanted to tell him that she couldn't, the voice seemed so familiar.

"Wake up, it's ok, open your eyes, there's nothing to be scared of, Shiloh, it's just a dream." She felt a dry and calloused hand on her face, brushing her cheeks.

Her eyes snapped open, free of the smokes influence. Her large pink eyes were wild and damp, and she gasped in air, filling her lungs. She exhaled, her voice shuddering, her hands reached, she was tangled in a sweat soaked bed roll, still not cognizant. She was being lifted and at first the panic bloomed a new, and she fought against the arms holding her.

"Easy, Shiloh, it's me, it's Vesuvan. Look at me, I'm a friend." His words were gentle but firm, anchoring her to reality.

When she finally did recognize him she froze, looking up into his familiar pale eyes, her mouth opening and closing, wanting to say something, but unsure what. Relief washed over her like a salve, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks, she leaned against his chest, hands balled into fists clinging onto his shirt. She forgot to be embarrassed, or proud, she was simply too relieved to care as she cried against him. She could feel his arms go around her tentatively. He rubbed her back with one hand and kept his other near the back of her neck, lightly scratching. Her ears slowly lifted from lying flat against her head, and her tail stopped swishing, the fur smoothing once again. She stopping gripping his shirt so tightly and let her breathing go back to normal, she inhaled his scent, banishing memories of the smoke from her mind, replacing them with sweat and spice, and leather.

"Was it the Lahabrea dream again?" He asked, his voice quiet and close to her ear, his breath moving the sensitive fur within.

"Yeah." She answered quietly. She pulled away from him, regaining her composure. Her pride and dignity finally catching up with her, and she was deeply embarrassed for showing such vulnerability.

The nightmares had started the same night after their encounter with the Acian, each night the nightmare would become more vivid, more real. She bore the marks of sleep deprivation, her bright pink eyes blood shot, dark circles beneath her lids. Minfillia had given them a reprieve; they would be contacted when it was time to move on Titan. Shortly thereafter reports of bodies had begun to surface in the Twelveswood. Shiloh's former mentor and conjurer guild master, E-Sumi-Yan had contacted her privately, believing the deaths to be unnatural and to be the work of demons. She agreed to investigate.

The bodies were all those of women, their faces brutalized and mutilated, everything that had once made them female cut off and destroyed, each showing evidence of having been alive, indicating they had been tortured and had suffered horrible deaths. Shiloh had emptied her stomach upon first discovering the corpses. The land where the bodies were found was defiled and screaming in anger. Upon further investigation it was discovered that a great flying eye had been seen near one of the victims, confirming the Padjal's suspicions. The one link connecting all the victims had been a peculiar pin they all wore. Shiloh and Vesuvan were on their way back to Gridania to show the pin to merchants and crafters when a violent thunderstorm had forced them to take shelter in a cave for the night.

Thunder crashed overhead, followed by a web of lightning, the rain pounded the stone at the mouth of the cave, trickling into their damp shelter. The fire sputtered and smoked, and the two Chocobo's nestled closer together, feathers momentarily ruffled. Shiloh was glad they had given those unfortunate girls proper burials, returning them to Earozea, flowers would bloom from their bodies and they would be at peace. Or so she hoped. How could anything be at peace when touched by such darkness? She ran her hands through her hair, her velvety soft ears twitching.

Vesuvan backed away, returning to his own bed roll, questions hanging between them, as heavy as the moisture. He poked the fire, adding some twigs, he wanted to help her, Shiloh could sense as much. He wanted to fix her, but Shiloh wouldn't allow it, and Vesuvan didn't know how.

"You should try getting some more sleep." He finally said, staring into the tiny fire.

Shiloh slowly lowered herself back into her blankets, turning to face the fire. Already her heart beat had accelerated; anxiety over what she would see when sleep finally took her. Her eye brows creased, and she silently chewed on her lower lip, fingers grasping each other under the covers. She was exhausted, she desperately did want to sleep, but she was afraid.

"I'll get you if it gets bad again." Vesuvan flicked his silvery eyes at her, unsure how else to offer reassurance.

"You really don't need to do that every time." Shiloh spoke into the fire, not meeting his eyes.

"I know." He pulled a blanket over his shoulders, leaning against the wall of the cave, making himself comfortable. "Get some rest."  
***

Vesuvan had never seen her like this, she was angry. Ever since discovering the old servant to Lady Amandine and learning the truth, the aura of fear and uncertainty that had surrounded her since their meeting with Lahabrea was lifted, and she was livid. For the first time in two weeks he hadn't needed to wake her from her nightmare and he was grateful, at least, for that reprieve. They made their way through the forest to the once grand Haukke manor. There was steel in Shiloh's eyes, her lips set in a thin line. Vesuvan kept a close watch on her; the normally predatory and dangerous animals in this part of the Twelveswood were unusually timid, giving them a wide berth. He wondered if it was thanks to her connection to the elements or Hydalyn, but she seemed to pulse with energy, much like what he sensed when they confronted Lahabrea.

"Are you ready to bloody your axe, Vesuvan?" Her voice was low, her pink eyes shining, almost manic, and her lips parted in a smile that flashed her fangs. "Naught but evil resides within, and you and I will purge the land of this abomination." She placed a light hand on his chest and reinforced his armor with the weight of the land, a skin made of stone. "Don't hold back."

Vesuvan inhaled a breath, and allowed a predatory grin, something stirred inside of him, something deep and primal. When they had first met there had been something like shock or fear in her face when he fought, he was brutal and efficient, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the fight, in fact he reveled in it. Something had changed in recent days, he could swear he saw blood lust in her rose pools, and he liked the look on her.

"I never do." His voice rumbled low, as he tilted his head down towards her. He touched her chin lightly with his forefinger, running his thumb over her heart shaped lips, she breathed in sharply but held his gaze. He flashed her a dark toothy smile and lowered the visor on his helmet, then swung his axe into the door, splintering it into a thousand tiny pieces. It was time to kill.  
***

Her white robe was stained black. Demon blood ran down her cheeks, she could taste the bitter copper on her tongue. Behind her she could hear the crunch of bones and the desperate screams of the now wingless succubi as they succumbed one by one to Vesuvan's great axe. These were the perverted souls of the innocent women who had been used in unholy ritual. All light, all resemblance to their former selves had been burned and cut away. Shiloh stood over one, holding it by the neck, the element of wind tearing at its wings, while it screamed garbled pleas for mercy. A quick death would be the only mercy offered to the darkness here.

"That is not the answer I wanted, devil." She hissed at her subject. The wind tore away one wing, tendon and skin and bone tearing, black blood bursting from the wound. She tightened her grip on its throat when the screams became too loud. "Where. Is. Your. Mistress?"

"Above….above in the solar….please, mercy….please…it hurts." The succubus whined in its hollow voice.

Shiloh turned, throwing the demon down at Vesuvans feet. No words were needed; he smiled and grunted, letting the axe slice the head cleanly off its shoulders. He kicked the corpse away, and slung his axe over his shoulder. Vesuvan stretched his neck, cocking his head from side to side. His blood was singing in his veins, he wasn't sure what was more thrilling, the heat of the battle, or watching Shiloh be as ruthless as she was being. It was a side of her he had simply not expected, then again, when he thought about nature, and the elements that served her, nature was as brutal as it was nurturing. He supposed it was a natural part of her to be as fearless and heartless as a storm in one moment, then to be as serene as still water the next.

"We're done here, our quarry is in the solar on the next floor." Shiloh spoke, her breathing heavy. She felt the blood on her fingers touching their tips, sticky and hot.

She heard every step Vesuvan took towards her; she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow when he took her bloodied hands in his. He raised the blackened finger tips to his mouth and brushed his lips against them softly, barely a kiss. Still the contact was electric, their eyes locked in a predatory gaze. The retribution and battle quickened blood and heart alike. He released her hands and backed away, always grinning, always calculating before nodding and turning to stalk back down the hallway they had come. Shiloh released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She was dizzy, light headed, almost drunk, she rubbed her finger tips together absently, the blood had cooled as it dried. She brought them up to her lips, and narrowed her eyes, she let out a low chuckle before following after him.

Vesuvan and Shiloh entered the solar, the great flying eye that had guarded the threshold nothing more than a stain on the already bloody carpet. The former duskwight noble was a shadow of her former self, with large leathery wings and a forked tail. Claws replaced nails, and fangs were prominent in her mouth. Her eyes were hollow and white, Lady Amandine was a servant of the dark, a demoness, and so far as Shiloh was concerned irredeemable.

"What is this? Guests?" She floated over to them, pupiless eyes boring into the Miqo'tes, both seeing and unseeing. "Such a handsome knight, and to have brought me such a lovely tribute, you will be rewarded." Her voice echoed, but dripped with desire and longing.

Vesuvan curled his lips at her, holding his axe in front of him. Shiloh gripped her staff, she could feel her tail whipping behind her, she began the slow whispers of an incantation, power welling within her.

"Not likely." He growled out at the Mistress of Haukke manor.

"She's not for me? Such a pretty little virgin, I've been so hungry as of late. Unless you mean to devour her yourself, rob me of my youth, of my beauty, I will not forgive your insolence…" Her voice was shrill, her face twisted, seething with jealousy, her rage palpable.

"I will rob you of much more than that, harpy." Vesuvan took a step forward ready to charge, to split the witch in two.

Shiloh took a step forward, Vesuvan looked at her in protest, but stopped. She was clad in light, energy coalescing around her being. She lifted her staff and her body rose into the air, the light bursting from within her in a blinding epicenter, all three present bathed in brightness. Lady Amandine began to scream clawing at her eyes, her dark skin curled like burning parchment. Shiloh's feet returned to the floor, but her eyes blazed with the light of the crystal.

"I am the champion of light chosen my Hydalyn herself, and the light shall burn away the darkness. Today your sins will be judged before the crystal and your soul will be in her hands. All I do is send you to her." Shiloh's voice was other worldly as she took slow steps towards the writhing demon.

Roots burst from the floor wrapping themselves around the screaming duskwight, the earth rumbled beneath them cracking the wooden beams of the manor, shaking the foundation. The roots tightened around her like a noose until the screaming stopped for lack of air. They tightened until the roots severed limbs and head from body, the Twelveswood herself taking revenge on the source of impurity. The remaining ghouls and denizens of the manor came running at the sound of their screaming mistress. The light that had been streaming out of Shiloh began to dim, her eyes went from shining white back to their normal rosy pink. Her legs were shaking, the elements of the Black Shroud, Hydalyn herself had spoken through her, she was left with a strange feeling of longing in her heart.

"Shiloh, we have to go, now." Vesuvan grabbed her by the elbow, urging her back.

"Yeah." She nodded, standing and wondering if it was in fact her legs that were shaking or the crumbling house, or perhaps a combination of both.

Vesuvan ran headlong into the oncoming creatures. They were all that remained of Amandine's rule. He spun his axe, connecting with bone and flesh; those that his axe did not fell were devoured by the earth and trees, by the water and howling wind of the Shroud. For the first time in his twenty three years of life he understood what it was the Padjals and Conjurers meant when they said living elements. He abandoned the fight, grabbing Shiloh's hand and ran as quickly as his legs would carry him, dragging her behind him. They stumbled into one of the shallow pools outside and watched as the Twelveswood purified the taint in its midst.

After a time the sound of churning earth, and creaking roots ended, the forest sighed in relief and the birds resumed their singing. Nature carried on, as it always had, as it always would. Shiloh and Vesuvan remained sitting in the water, her hand still firmly grasped in his, the sound of their breathing filling their ears. Shiloh's head snapped up, her fingers tightening around his hand. He looked to where she was staring, and grit his teeth. The two Acians strolled towards them leisurely, as if a mansion had not just been swallowed by the earth.

"Our master was not wrong when he said you had power. Hydalyn chose well." The first spoke, in a voice much like Lahabrea's, but with less power.

"Pity your existence opposes our goals." The second spoke, crouching to pick up a piece of debris, any expression hidden by a full black facial mask.

"Oh there is no need to worry, yet. Our master asked us only to observe, and take measure of your power." The first added when he noticed Shiloh struggle to stand, sensing her dread.

"Strange how darkness blossoms in the most unlikely of places, farewell champion, we will meet again." The second stood, dropping the refuse before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke with his cohort.


	5. Beach Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Primal, a new mission. Shiloh and Vesuvan have been ordered to Costa Del Sol to investigate the rumors surrounding Titan.

Vesuvan wasn't a fan of the Waking Sands, he felt out of place, and as of late the demands the other Scions put on Shiloh started to grate on his nerves. If Minfillia also had the echo why was so much put on Shiloh's shoulders and not the leader herself? He held his tongue and watched from his position in the corner of the room, back against the wall. Shiloh on the other hand was smiling and laughing greeting the others with open arms, and Vesuvan guessed she never once thought she might be being taken advantage of.

"Stare any harder, and people will start to talk, friend." The voice was behind him, closer then he would have liked. He had an ear to the door but he hadn't heard it open.

Vesuvan looked to who was behind him and was met with a fair haired Hyur, the fur on his tail raised, and his eyes narrowed. The miqo'te opened his mouth to speak but the other Scions interrupted what he might have said with jubilant welcome to the man.

"Thancred. You must be our Shiloh's gloomy protector." He extended a hand towards Vesuvan, smile on his lips but challenge in his eyes.

"After you left her alone against Ifirit, I suppose it was necessary. Storm Lieutenant Vesuvan Nijian." He took the Hyur's hand and shook it.

"Pleasure." Thancerd cocked his head and murmured his answer, both men sizing the other one up.

The Hyur moved to join the other Scions, he greeted each one in turn, leaving Shiloh for last. He took her hands and kissed them, bowing before her with a flourish. He glanced back at Vesuvan before he leaned in and whispered something in Shiloh's ear, causing her to blush furiously.

"Thancred, you're incorrigible." Minfillia said in her good natured tone.

"Are we done? This is not the time to be flirting, Titan has been resurrected, and with the Ascians revealing themselves, it feels as though they are taunting us. Have we also forgotten about the Garleans?" Y'shtola exclaimed to the group, beyond annoyed.

"Calm Y'shtola, no one has forgotten. Thancred has been busy discovering all he can of the Ascians, and the grand companies are monitoring the Garlean encroachment. Our biggest concern at the moment is Titan. Please, dear friend, tell us what has happened." Minfillia said gently, placing a hand on the irritated Scion.

Y'shtola went on to explain what the kobold beast tribe had done, that braving their mazes without a map would be folly, Vesuvan was inclined to agree. He had fought the Kobolds on many occasions, they were dim witted but their weapons sharp, organized and under the direction of a primal they could become an actual threat to Limsa and La Nocea as a whole. Y'shtola, then went on to say that the previous group of mercenaries who had defeated Titan were still alive, they needed to be found, so that they could discover their methods. The Company of heroes, Vesuvan had heard of them.

"Will you fight, Shiloh? I know we ask much of you…" Minfillia asked somberly.

"Of course, you needn't even ask." Shiloh answered.

Vesuvan couldn't see her face, but noted how her tail started to move, how her ears flattened slightly against her head. They were signs of fear, but she was steeling herself. Whatever she faced she wouldn't be alone.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to join you, Y'shtola knows La Nocea far better than I. Forgive me?" Thancreds voice broke Vesuvan's musings.

"There's nothing to forgive Thancred. You have important work to attend to. Besides, I'll have two experts with me, Y'shtola and Vesuvan." Shiloh answered, looking over her shoulder at the glaring Lieutenant.

He kept his eyes on Thancred, who was making any excuse to be in contact with Shiloh. His fingers curled into fists. His instincts demanding he separate Shiloh from that man, he held his peace, and when the meeting was over the mens eyes met again.

"Mind her well Lieutenant." With that Thancred strolled out of the room.

Vesuvan could have sworn he felt a chill when Thancred smiled at him.  
***

Costa del Sol was the premier holiday destination for all of Erozea. Famous for the white sandy beaches, tropical climate, an abundance of fresh fruit and fish, not to mention the award winning wine from nearby Winport. Shiloh had always wanted to visit, and looked down at the torn and soaking travel brochure she had brought with her from Limsa Lominsa, then back up. The search for the Company of hero's had led them here. The ferry docked and they were ushered out, the waves making the simple task of stepping off the boat precarious. It was no later than eight thirty, but the sky was black and full of dark clouds currently unloading onto the beach and frail wooden huts, palm trees were bent at impossible angles, losing their large branches and leaves to the gale. The rain fell with such force that it felt like needles pelting their skin, they were soaked to the bone within seconds. Their bags were deposited beside them, and Vesuvan grabbed both of them. Lightning snaked across the sky, illuminating a storm torn settlement doing its best not to be swept back to sea. The brochure engorged with water, tore and fell apart in Shiloh's hands.

"Let's go!" Vesuvan had to yell in Shiloh's ear in order to be heard over the sound of the storm.

They hurried away from the churning ocean, off the docks onto a barely lit pathway. They ducked into a small hut where a frazzled Lalafell acted as receptionist. It was a resort town, all the small huts acted as rooms to be rented by travellers and vacationers alike.

"Lieutenant Nijian! You picked a hell of a night to come to us. Your usual hut is available, better hurry out of this rain. I'll send along some dry clothes for you and your companion." He gave Vesuvan a knowing wink. "I'd heard rumors some new girls had arrived at the capitol, she's lovely."

"Hihito, I'm here on business, this is my subordinate. Two huts were requested." Vesuvan leaned in closely, his voice low and hurried. Hihito always did have a big mouth.

"Oh! Apologies, we saw your name on the reservation and figured there must have been a mistake. We're all booked up for the festival." The Lalafell looked to be in fear for his life, as Vesuvan's face inched closer to his, fangs bared. "We've…..we've already lost business thanks to the storm and the damage many of our huts have taken…your…your…hut is the final vacancy…my deepest apologies, Lieutenant." The diminutive receptionist bowed.

Vesuvan backed away grabbing the sopping bags, avoiding Shiloh's bewildered and questioning face. She followed him closely along a path he seemed to know well until they arrived at their destination. Vesuvan unlocked the door opening it up into a comfortable room with a large bed, a couch and sitting area. A small table with two chairs, and a door leading to a luxurious bathroom, balcony doors were closed against the storm.

Shiloh stood in the middle of the room shivering and dripping wet, leaving a puddle on the wooden floor. The rain drummed on the roof, and the wind howled, making the walls creek. Vesuvan busied himself lighting the oil lanterns.

"So, you bring girls here?" Shiloh asked in a shy voice.

"Drop it." He grumbled.

"Girls whose time and company you pay for?" She hugged herself, painfully aware of her own inexperience in that particular field.

"Yes." Vesuvan sighed heavily. "Listen, it's not important, let's just focus on finding the company of heroes and Titan. There should be some robes in there, get out of your wet things before you catch a chill."

Shiloh nodded and did as she was told, hanging her now heavy robe over the tiled bath to dry. She used a towel in her blue and pink hair. She couldn't place what she was feeling, jealous? Insulted? Vesuvan was right, it didn't matter how he spent his gil in his free time, still the unease in her gut persisted. When she emerged from the bathroom, Vesuvan was in his own robe, his customary braids were unbound, the dark blue blended with the white hair curly and soft, a stark contrast to the rest of the short deep blue. The two large steel beads he adorned himself with were sitting on the table in front of him. He had a comb in one hand, and was trying to rebraid his hair, without a mirror the task was difficult. Shiloh sat beside him and took the comb from his hands. She wondered why such a practical minded man such as him didn't simply cut the braids off, why he would ornament himself in such a way, especially since gil paid for the kinds of mates he wanted. Her fingers wove through his hair, soft as silk, fastening the braid with the light steel bead. When she went to start on the other braid he stopped her hand.

"You don't need to do this." He was looking straight ahead.

"I know." She answered gently as she moved to the other side, and began braiding.

"I'm sorry about all of this." Finally his pale blue eyes did find hers, if only briefly. "We'll take turns with the bed until another hut opens up. You can have it tonight, I'll take the couch."

"Okay." She nodded, her fingers braiding quickly to hide the shaking, she fastened the second bead on. "There, good as new." She said with forced cheerfulness.

"Thanks, get some rest. We have an early morning." He gave her a nod and a small crooked grin.

She slid into the large bed, and lay on her side, with her back towards Vesuvan. It was then that her mind decided to remind her that he had enjoyed countless women in that same bed. She felt her entire body flush, far too hot in the robe and under the covers. The harder she tried not to think of it, the more creative her mind became, imagining what might please a man like him. She bit her lip, lips that had never even been kissed; she grabbed a pillow and covered her face. She would be getting no sleep tonight.


	6. Deserts, Cheese and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The path to the Lord of the Crags is far more convoluted then either Vesuvan or Shiloh could have imagined.

The Sagolii desert, Shiloh watched Vesuvan swing his axe, hacking away at the sand worm. She was still trying to figure out why they were here. Collecting ingredients for a feast? Watching Vesuvan slice through the creature for its meat was turning her stomach, what feast? They shouldn't be wasting time here, Titan was in La Noscea, not Thanalan, but apparently worm meat was a delicacy, and the current Nunh of the U tribe was a former member of the Company of hero's. Taking down a great sandworm and retrieving the choicest cut was a trial to see if she and Vesuvan could not only prove themselves capable hunters to the Keeper of the Sun tribe, but also prove that they had the skill necessary to defeat a Primal. No one even bothering to acknowledge that Shiloh had already, single handedly, defeated Ifirit.

Vesuvan and Shiloh were themselves Keepers of the Sun, but in name only, neither had grown up in a tribal environment, Shiloh was a decedent of the Soo tribe, and Vesuvan a decedent of the Vah. The difference was that they called their sire's father, and their mothers were their fathers the only mate, not one of ten or fifteen or even up to fifty other breeding females. Vesuvan was neither a Nunh nor a Tia, and Shiloh, was still "untouched" as the tribeswomen called her. They were both a source of curiosity and ridicule within the U tribe while they were visiting.

That changed when the pair returned with their prize. The huntresses crowded around wide eyed, Vesuvan lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head, handing the chieftain the requested cut of meat. Both males exchanged a look, challenge and respect, the older Miqo'te then clapped the younger on the shoulder.

"Next thing you know and you will be challenging to be Nunh, well done." The older Miqo'te smiled, crow's feet wrinkling his eyes. "We will feast the hunters tonight before they return to my old friend." He announced to the assembled huntresses, who all clapped and smiled, then swarmed Shiloh who was left looking insulted for having been overlooked by the chieftain altogether. She didn't have time to sulk as she was swept into one of the houses by a heard of chattering Miqo'te females.

"That was a large worm you killed!"

"Well done sister."

"How are you still untouched? You hunt, and have been bloodied by your foes, you are a perfectly good mate!"

"Perhaps V'Ehsuvan IS a Tia, and she is being saved for a great Nunh?"

The more they chattered around her the deeper Shiloh's blush became, they spoke of mating and copulation as if it was nothing, everyday life. And for the Children of the Sand, and hunters of the U tribe, it was normal. Hands were stripping Shiloh out of soiled robe, no thought of modesty; she was brought to the spring for which their settlement was named. She was scrubbed clean, her skin so much paler then her desert dwelling cousins, her nose and other exposed skin grown red in the hot sun. The water was cool and refreshing, easing her muscles and burnt skin, the stench and worm gore sloughing off of her to contented sighs.

The women adorned themselves in outfits Shiloh had only ever seen the street dancers in Uldah wear, only far more ornate. She found herself having her skin scented with oils heavy with cinnamon and cactus flowers, her hair adorned with beads and she was given a silver costume with matching anklets and bracelets that had tiny bells on them which tinkled with every step she took. Shiloh was left standing in front of a mirror awed by the reflection in front of her. A dark skinned huntress stood behind her, adding a silver chain around her belly with more bells.

"You will not be untouched for much longer, little one." She spoke softly with a knowing wink. "If your V'Ehsuvan does not take you, our Nunh will, you would make a fine sister." She laughed heartily when Shiloh blushed.

"Oh, my…no, it's not like that, Vesuvan, he's...we're not. It's a little drafty don't you think?" Shiloh stammered, trying to adjust the half skirt that did nothing to cover the front her blue tail twitched nervously.

The huntress knelt in front of her, and dabbed some of the oil behind her knees and on her inner thighs. Shiloh took a step back, nearly tripping over her own feet.

"A very fine little sister." The huntress whispered, her deep amber eyes glowing in the fading light with a look that sent a shockwave through Shiloh's body. "Come now; it is time we presented you to your mate."

"He's not my mate!" Shiloh whined as she was dragged out of the house.

The bonfire was cracking and snapping in the center of town. Great chunks of meat were slowly being turned on spits, the outer layers being shaved off with great knives shining with grease. Shiloh's own stomach was tied up in knots, but every time she tried to run back to the safety of one of the houses, she was blocked by laughing and dancing hunters, all of them slowly herding her towards a raised dais draped with plush pillows and heavy rugs. Sitting on the dais in a simple wooden chair was the tribes chieftain. Behind him, on cushions were his two eldest sons, and the Tia of the tribe, and at a seat of honor to his right sat Vesuvan with a tankard of ale in one hands and a truncheon of meat in the other. He sat eating, watching a group of hunters dance, while he took slow bites of the dripping sand worm meat, his pale blue eyes looked orange in the fire light, and his lips were curled into a small smile. For a moment Shiloh hoped with all the other scantily clad women around she wouldn't be noticed, and that he wouldn't see her, on the other hand she hoped he would see only her.

The huntress with the amber eyes stepped forward and was greeted immediately by the Nunh, he reached up and took her hands and pulled her down into his lap, and kissed her sweetly.

"This is U'Kianna, my first mate, and mother to my sons, the Tia." He introduced U'Kianna to Vesuvan, not at all shy about where his hands roamed, or the kisses he delivered on her collar bone. "And you must be S'Hiloh, the champion my old friends have told me so much about." At long last the Chieftain acknowledged her, offering her a toothy smile, and indicating that she too should sit in a place of honor.

The din of the crowd had grown eerily quiet, and Shiloh realized the attention of the entire village was on her, countless eyes analyzing, questioning. The eyes that burned the most were Vesuvan's.

"Thank you; you do us a great honor." Shiloh somehow found her voice, though she was sure it shook.

She stepped towards the pillow that had been reserved for her, every step tinkling with the music of hundreds of tiny bells, and took her seat. The blush that had started at her cheeks having now spread over her entire body, the heat of the fire causing beads of sweat to form, releasing the scent of the oils, Shiloh fiddled with the ends of her skirt. Once in her seat the revelry started up again, but Vesuvan's eyes remained on her.

"What? It would have been undiplomatic to have turned them down." Montining at the silver costume and ornamentation, Shiloh glanced up at Vesuvan's pale blue eyes, than down again, her fingers pulling at the skirt.

"You look thirsty." He handed her a cold mug of ale, leaning towards her, she heard him inhale. His ears were forward, he looked like a man with a treasure beside him, with a small smile that reached his entire face.

Shiloh drank deeply and quickly, anything to lower her body temperature. One of the young girls brought her a skewer of meat, and ran off giggling. She took two bites, not tasting the rich meat, meat she had promised herself earlier that she wouldn't eat, but the alcohol was dancing with the butterflies and she needed something to settle her nervousness.

She finally calmed herself enough to take in the scene, there was so much joy around her, the dancing was beautiful with nothing but drums and the sounds of the dancers bells creating the music. She started to relax and laugh, she even noticed that Vesuvan was wearing borrowed clothing, in the Uldahn style with the low V neck exposing his upper chest, and a silver chain. The look suited him well. U'Kianna eventually pulled her up and attempted to teach Shiloh some of the dance moves, the first mate was delighted when Shiloh's hips and tail moved the way they were supposed to. There was no music like this is Gridania, and naught but sailor's shanties in Limsa Lominsa, and while she profoundly enjoyed the music of both her home and adopted home, she had never heard or moved to something so primal. Slowly the village went to sleep. For a town with only three males, with only one who was permitted to mate, Shiloh and Vesuvan could hear the sounds of love making all around them. There were no rules about the huntresses and mates enjoying each other. The Nunh retired with U'Kianna on his left arm, a younger mate on his right, and yet another holding U'Kianna's hand. He gave Vesuvan a nod and disappeared into his sandstone house, leaving the two outsiders on the dais to fend for themselves. Vesuvan poured two more tankards of ale, and reclined on a pillow. Shiloh raised an eyebrow at him.

"Enjoying yourself Lieutenant?" Shiloh teased, sipping her ale, the alcohol making her skin buzz, both sensitive and numb all at once.

"Can you believe at one time, all of the Seekers of the Sun lived like this?" He drank throwing a pillow in the air, laughing in disbelief. "The chieftain has mating privileges with thirty five breeding females. Thirty five!"

"I suppose it's cheaper than buying your pleasure." Shiloh spoke more bitterly then she meant, not intending to wound with her words, or perhaps she did, she drank deeply of her drink. The damage was already done, and the easy smile that lighted Vesuvan's face all night was gone, he looked into his tankard.

"Aye, cheaper." He mumbled.

"I'm sorry. I suppose I couldn't live like this. My father, he…he was a gentle soul, in a world like this he would have never been allowed to have a family of his own. Besides, he never needed anyone but my mother. I don't know if I could compete with so many for someone's love. Or be like U'Kianna and share the man she loves." Shiloh looked at Vesuvan, unable to read his face.

"Are you jealous Shiloh? Of the courtesans I've paid for in the past?" His face searched hers, a hurt still in his eyes.

"What? I… jealous?" Shiloh looked away, feeling the blush return.

"Yes, jealous. I don't…court, I don't trust easily…Maybe, I'm a coward, and it's easier to pay a woman to pretend to love me, then to risk it all. Are you jealous of a woman who cares nothing for me, but cares everything for my coin?" Vesuvan creased his forehead, gripping his cup.

"I don't know how to answer that. Vesuvan, you are not a coward. Maybe, I am a little jealous. Maybe if you had stayed in Gridania you wouldn't have needed to…Maybe…you are deserving of more than just a pretty lie." Shiloh's voice was very soft; her own eyes low, veiled by lashes.

Vesuvan looked up sharply at her words, and stared at the woman he had spent so much time with, someone he had grown attached to despite his efforts to remain impartial. They had seen sides of each other the rest of the world had not. He reached a hesitant hand forward, touching her chin, taking it between thumb and finger, and lifted her head. He lowered his forhead to hers, he kept his eyes fixed on her, inhaling the intoxicating scent of the oils, the alcohol making both their heads light. Her face lifted towards his, and he felt her hand on his cheek, and he leaned his face towards the touch. He released her chin, spreading his fingers across her face, running his hands through her hair, finding the base of her skull.

"This is a bad idea." He rumbled. His lips inches away from hers, consumed with the thought of touching his lips to hers, obsessed with wondering what she might taste like.

"Terrible." She whispered back.

He closed the distance between them, his lips tentative and shy, holding back the floodgate. She responded, inhaling sharply surrounded by his scent. Slowly his lips molded to hers, and he let out a small growl at the back of his throat. Her lips moved with his, opening at his gentle insistence, tasting each other. His tongue ran over hers, a slow dance, as they savored feelings that had unexpectedly bloomed. Ale and lust vying for attention. Vesuvan ended the kiss, sharply, pulling away. Shiloh's eyes were slow to open.

"We've had a lot to drink…You should go. I don't want to take advantage of you, Shiloh. Go, find a bed, bar the door, before I make a bad decision…before we make a bad decision." He spoke, quietly, his eyes begging her to do as she was told, his fingers still tangled in her hair.

"Ves…" Shiloh started to protest, trying to close the gap once more.

"Please, just, listen to me. Not here, not like this. This, you…us, is something I want to remember." Vesuvan pulled away, with more force and insistence then before.

"Alright." She leaned in, and kissed his cheek, noting how he froze, almost scared. "I'll see you in the morning." She stood up on shaky legs and made her way towards the house U'Kianna had dressed her in.

"Shiloh!" Vesuvan called out to her after a few steps, she turned towards him. "Keep the outfit!" She laughed and continued walking. He rubbed his face with his hands, what was he doing?  
***

They traveled back to Costa Del Sol with barely a word spoken between the two Miqo'tes. The air had shifted between them and unspoken words remained at the tips of their tongues. Vesuvan was restless, he hated it when he was stuck in his own head, the idleness and busy work they had been given thus far had left him frustrated, and in need of a challenge. He wanted the thrill of battle to still his mind, to let his instincts take over, he needed to stop thinking of her, of how she felt, how she tasted, and smelled. The subject of the kiss hadn't been broached; he was upset with himself for letting it go as far as it did, for wanting Shiloh as badly as he did. It was a distraction he had neither wanted nor needed.

Ghosts screamed in his head, voices of the dead who demanded retribution. His goal, the reason he had left his home so long ago had nearly been forgotten in that fleeting happiness. Voja was still out there, with the death of their father to account for, for the death of Gridanians, and free Earozeans. When his brother was brought to justice he would be free to follow his own desires, when the primals were defeated once and for all, when the Garleans were pushed back into the sea, away from Earozean borders. Then he could be with her, then he could be a whole man, a person deserving of the look of adoration she had given him.

When they arrived the sun was blazing, the sands glowed white, sunbathers, and fishermen littered the shore. The scent of wildflower and coconut filled his nostrils occasionally punctuated by salt and sea, and fish. A great crab had just been taken down, and workers were using pitchforks and swords to get at the meat inside.

"Take these bags back to the hut, I'll go and see what they have planned for us next." She gave him a crooked smile and rolled her eyes. Their fingers met in the exchange and an electrical current was shared.

"The next task better be defeating the Lord of Crags, my axe is itching." He answered her in his low tones. His ears twitched as he heard the sound of tiny bells within the bag Shiloh handed him. He caught the scent of cinnamon, and couldn't stop the way his lips twitched up.

"Your axe is always itching, Lieutenant Nijian." She called over her shoulder.  
***

"Cheese?!" Vesuvan almost yelled at her.

"From a goblin, their homes have been taken over by a dragon, and we are to help them clear it out, so that we can retrieve the…cheese." Shiloh put her hands up, trying her best to calm Vesuvan, who was far worse than her at containing his disdain for the tasks they had been given.

"Wait, a dragon?" His ears perked. "Do you know what kind? I didn't realize they traveled so far from Ishgard." All his previous anger was lost, the prospect of the hunt erasing the ridiculous goal.

"I have no idea. And what do you know of dragons and the Ishgardians?" Shiloh asked, she may know some of his secrets, but the echo had not revealed all to her. There was much she still didn't know of her companion.

"I have a cousin in Coerthas. I'm fairly certain the man eats dragons for dinner, he's a dragoon." Vesuvan spoke with a small smile on his lips, remembering some long past joke. "Wouldn't mind showing Fenris you don't need a fancy lance to take a dragon's head off."

"You used to wave a fancy lance around if I recall correctly." Shiloh threw the teasing barb out.

"I still can, but this dragon will meet its death with the bite of my axe." He smiled wolfishly at her. "Let's go retrieve some stinking goblin cheese."

Shiloh had lost count of the bug bites on her skin, her and Vesuvans tails were in constant motion trying to keep the midge swarms from their legs. Shiloh swatted at her ears, feeling one of the tiny insects crawling in the fine fur there. Her boots were soaked through as they made their way through the swamp the goblins called home. The stench of rotting leaves and vegetation saturated the place, there was no sea breeze among the trees. The humidity was a physical weight, her robe was damp, but only her feet had stepped in water, beads of sweat slipped down her temples and into her eyes, and the salt burned. She almost preferred the desert with the dry heat, mostly she wished she was anywhere but this place. She looked up at Vesuvan, in front of her. He was muttering curses every step of the way, his heavy plate dripping with condensation. They finally reached the goblin named Brayflox, neither in a particularly diplomatic mood.

"The dragon's in there? Good." Vesuvan shouldered his way past the goblin. "Private, hop to, there's work to be done."

"Aye, sir." Shiloh wiped the sweat from her brow, crushing the swarming insects to her skin, leaving small bloodied marks on her face.

They moved from wild swamp, to swamp with small goblins huts overtaken by the lands poisonous and carnivorous species. The elements were wild here, angry and raw, Shiloh used that borrowed power to the best of her ability, vines swarmed and choked, the ground shook and cracked beneath the water, pulling the unfortunate denizens down into the mud, returning to the crystal. Vesuvan unleashed, swinging madly but with precision, cleaving the pugii, and raptors, their corpses to be feasted on by their brethren lucky enough to avoid the axe. Brayflox did his best to keep up, but he held back, fearing the Miqo'tes current wrath.

They eventually reached a gate, there Brayflox stopped, too frightened to move forward, though he put on a brave face. Shiloh drank deeply from her canteen, the fresh water almost gone. Vesuvan did the same, it was the first opportunity she had to take a closer look at him. The healer in her inspected him, when she noted an oozing cut on his neck in the space between helmet and chest plate. She narrowed her eyes and knelt closely, removing a dirty and wet glove to run a finger on the wound. Vesuvan winced.

"Poison." She said, before concentrating on bringing forth a blue glow to her hands to purge the wound. "I can remove the poison, but the wound won't stich closed, the elements here are angry, my healing ability suffers for it. At this rate it will get infected." She sat back on her haunches, thinking.

She knew of another way to heal, without the aid of the elements, nearly every White mage and Conjurer did. It was a lesson they were all taught, not as an alternative to using the elements, but as a warning. She could pull on her own life force to heal, but at a cost. It was essentially transferring her own life force to another, life she would never get back. She tore a stripe from her robe, and wrapped it around Vesuvan's neck.

"You should be fine until we get back to Costa del Sol, the elements there are far more agreeable. That just means that we must end the dragon quickly, a prolonged fight could bode very ill for us." For the first time since setting out a shadow of worry entered her mind. "I'll mitigate as much damage as I can, but you must be quick Vesuvan." Her hand covered his, squeezing the metal gauntleted fingers.

"The dragon won't have time to realize it's been attacked, before seeing it's dead body from its missing head." Vesuvan growled with a grin showing his fangs. He stood up pulling Shiloh up with him. "Let's go bag us a dragon."

The lair was easy enough to find from the stench alone. Vesuvan lowered his visor dragging his axe along the caves stone ground, sparking as he went. The green dragon sensed a disturbance in its lair almost immediately and swooped in with a roar that shook the earth. Vesuvan answered its call in kind, pumping his legs swinging his axe high. The dragon swiped with long claws, but Vesuvan didn't stop his momentum, jumping from the ground to the claws and up again aiming for the soft neck. Dragons were intelligent creatures, and it reacted with its other arm and swiped, connecting with the charging warrior, sending him flying to the ground.

Shiloh was quick to react, the water pools answering her call, rising up to catch him, the earth surrounding him, so that all that shattered when Vesuvan landed was stone, and not bone. He landed hard nonetheless, and Shiloh saw the red spit leave his mouth before he charged again. He used the walls a leverage, rounding up the uneven cave to attack from above. Shiloh would have never thought to be so innovative. Then recalled he had been a lancer once, a job specifically made to kill dragons, with a cousin who went so far as to become a dragoon. He was pulling from all of his training, not just what he had learned as a warrior. The best way to defeat a dragon was to attack from above. Vesuvan knew the strategy well.

Apparently so did the dragon who opened its wings in an attempt to deflect the warrior, Vesuvan's axe pierced the thin webbing that made up the wing, landing on the beasts back. The dragon reared up, Vesuvan dug his axe into the scaly hide, more in an effort to keep from falling then maim. Shiloh called on the element of Earth, accelerating the stalactites growth, turning the cave ceiling into blade, and stabbed the dragon, keeping it in place. It howled and she could hear the deep inhale. Instead of fire bursting from its mouth, it spit out a green miasma, poison. Shiloh managed to avoid most of the attack but her side was hit, the white robe a sickly green. The fumes made her eyes water, the poison was airborn and fast acting. Her lungs struggled to breath. She called on the elements to purge, and it took every bit of her strength to reject the poison.

"Esuna." She whispered. The last time she had needed to speak the spells name was when she had been an acolyte in Gridania.

"Shiloh!" Vesuvan called out, he didn't have the time to go to her, he couldn't. He had to end it, quickly.

Shiloh stood up gritting her teeth, baring her fangs. This time she accelerated a stalagmite using the cave floor and aimed for the beasts maw. She trusted Vesuvan to take his chance when he saw it, prayed to the crystal he would know. It was a gamble. The ground beneath the dragons open mouth sharpened to a pointed edge. She reached a hand out, willing the earth to rise. The dragons large yellow eye focused on her, opening its mouth for another attack. The earth burst forward, through the top of its gaping tooth rimmed snout. Vesuvan was there just as she had hoped, his axe breaking the great lizards jaw mid breath attack.

The dragon screamed, its entire body convulsing, the pierced upper jaw sliding down the stalagmite until teeth pierced Vesuvans shoulder. The pain brought forth a rage and frenzy in the Miqo'te and he pulled his axe out of the bleeding wound. He swung with a preternatural strength synonymous with his calling, and finished severing the dragons head from its body, before he collapsed in a pool of blood and poison.

He couldn't breathe. The pain in his shoulder slammed into him once the adrenaline wore off, the poison acting far quicker. He tasted blood and something else on his tongue, which was in the process of swelling. His vision blurred, and when Shiloh called his name he heard it as if underwater.

"Vesuvan, you did it. Don't close your eyes. Damn these elements!" Shiloh was dragging his body away blue light flowing from her hands.

His breathing was becoming more labored having taken a much bigger dose of the poison then she had.

"ESUNA! Purge him, you stubborn jungle! Esuna." Shiloh's voice was frantic, all the teaching about remaining calm gone. These elements of the jungle had fought her every step of the way, refusing to commune with her except to destroy. His wounds, the poison would have been so simple to heal in Gridania, anywhere but this confounded swamp.

She growled out in frustration, not sure if it was a tear or sweat that fell down her cheek. She would not lose him. Not like this. She looked inward, doing what she was taught she must never do, and used herself as a conduit for healing instead of the elements that refused to aid her. It was simple, painless, and almost euphoric. She saw his breathing return to normal. She pulled a tooth from the broken shoulder, as bone and tendon mended. When she was done he was sitting up and watching her. She gave him the tooth.

"Now you have proof for that cousin of yours." Her voice was drawn, tired. " Let's get that bloody cheese, and leave this place."


	7. Lord of the Crags - Titan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lahabrea pays Shiloh a visit the eve before her battle with Titan, shaking her, yet nothing can stop what's been put into place. Vesuvan and Shiloh are thrust into battle deep under ground in the Primals own lair.

The party raged above her head on the dock and near the bar, Shiloh sat on the beach digging her bare toes into the warm sand. The sun was setting and she watched the perfect blue sky turn to orange and red and pink and purple. She hugged her knees, and lowered her head, closing her eyes, wishing the day wouldn't end, wishing the new dawn never came. She was afraid. The dread in her stomach festered, and she felt ill, having not even tasted the meal all of her and Vesuvans hard work had made possible. She had escaped the boisterous Company of Hero's unnoticed. They being more concerned with catching up with old friends, already declaring her Titan's bane, celebrating as if she had already won. She squeezed her eyes shut, and felt hot tears on her cheeks, her nails dug into the skin on her legs. She was terrified.

She didn't know if she would be able to heal Vesuvan, if the elements would hear her and obey, or if she would be met with the same disaster she had encountered in the jungle two days earlier. She had been alone, when she had confronted Ifirit, she had seen firsthand how he had put men in his thrall. She went to Titan with Vesuvan, and the thought of his succumbing to the primals will had never been a thought far from her mind. He had been assigned to protect her, but in this case she had to protect him, and she wasn't sure if she could. She had sacrificed a part of herself to save him once, she would do it again, but if his mind was overcome, there was no cure, his wills freedom would lie in death alone. Her shoulders shook, and she gasped for air between stifled sobs.

"Hydalyn guide me, I don't know if I can win and protect him, please show me how to keep him safe." She lifted her head towards the sky, the stars blinking silently back at her like a million shards from the great crystal, but no soothing voice came to her, no answer to her query.

"There you are, Shiloh." Vesuvan's called out to her.

She stiffened and hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes. Hoping in the dark he wouldn't notice her swollen and blood shot eyes.

"Here I am." She responded with a wave, her voice wavered.

"I snuck the last bottle, I figured we deserve this. What do you think? Now or after we beat Titan tomorrow?" Vesuvan spoke in a conspiratorial tone, quite pleased with himself for having filched the wine.

She noted the two glasses Vesuvan held in his other hand, and his toothy grin. She tried to smile, but her face contorted and she shook her head, stood up and ran to their shared hut, leaving a bewildered and concerned Miqo'te behind. She escaped into the bathroom, baring the door. She ran the water making it hot, stripping out of her clothes and stood under the spray, letting the water wash away the tears, wishing it could wash away the fear and doubt that was paralyzing her. The steam changed, taking on a black and purple hue. It wasn't until the steam was overcome by smoke making it difficult to breathe that she opened her eyes and realized something was wrong.

"Fear is a powerful weapon, wouldn't you agree Champion?" A dark oily voice spoke softly behind her. The water continued to spray distorting sound, and scent.

Shiloh spun around, the wet tiles making her fall, she was caught by the neck in hands covered by gloves, with metal fingers filed to a deadly point. She was slammed into the tiled wall, with a force that made her real, she saw black spots in front of her eyes, her wet body slide up until her toes could not touch the floor. The only sound escaping her mouth being garbled gasping whimpers.

"Did you know that fear, doubt, and despair weaken the aertherial makeup of the soul? It's how I possessed my current host, fool that he was, he has served me well." He spoke all the while trailing his other gloved hand over the planes of her body, everywhere he touched, the heat of the water was erased, replaced by biting cold. She kicked her legs, struggling impotently against a fearsome strength that had taken her utterly by surprise, the more she feared, the weaker she became.

"When I possess a body, their soul remains, but it is bound, unable to move, unable to act. Their memories, their emotions, all of these baser instincts are left behind. I am old enough to ignore them, the leftovers of the host, but every now and then, it is rather enjoyable to indulge." He lowered her, feet touched wet tile again, but her windpipe was still crushed by his vice grip, allowing only the smallest of gasped breath through. Her hands went from the arm holding her to push against his face, attempting to claw at his face, to remove his mask. She wanted desperately to hurt him, to make him sto. She kicked, she fought with everything she had, panic overwhelming her, only thinking of survival. He laughed at her attempts.

Her entire body was slammed against the tile, hard, the smoke a physical weight, holding her as securely as chains. Lips pressed against her own, crushing her, robbing her of breath, sickly oil invading her throat, and she gagged, bile rising. Lahabrea released her lips, holding her face still between metal claws, a deadly smile on his face.

"Shiloh! Open the door, is everything alright? Shiloh!" Vesuvan was pounding on the door, her ears finally registering his presence.

"I hate interruptions. Do try to stay alive a little longer, I so enjoy our chats. It is inevitable, you will die, but I love watching you rage against the storm. Until next time, Champion." With that he released her, and she collapsed to the floor. He vanished in a swirl of smoke. Shiloh retched, emptying her stomach of what little contents there was.

Vesuvan slammed into the door, breaking the lock barging into the room at a run. He looked towards Shiloh, shivering naked on the floor, her body convulsing with every retch. Next he saw the broken tiles. He turned the water off, having turned cold and wrapped his companion in a warm towel. He gathered her in his arms and rocked her, whispering soft and calming words at her as she got her bearings.

"What happened?" He finally asked, when she stopped shaking, when she stopped crying.

"Lahabrea." She whispered, wrapping the towel around her more tightly. She leaned her head against Vesuvan's shoulder. Fear was a weapon, despair, doubt, If she succumbed to these emotions, Ascians or not, she would fail. She looked up at Vesuvan, holding his face in her hands. "Tomorrow, Titan will attempt to put you in his thrall, I cannot rescue you from that fate, if you succumb to Titan's will, your only freedom will be death. If I tell you to run, run, whatever may be happening you run, run as far away as you can so that he can't reach you, so that I'm not forced to kill you as well. The Echo protects me, but I will not have your death on my hands, I will not lose you. So promise me, Lieutenant Vesuvan Nijian, give me your word, that you will run when I tell you."

"I promise. You have my word, Shiloh. He won't take me." Vesuvan answered taking her hands in his, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Good." She nodded her head, closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down taking a deep breath, then wrapped her arms around Vesuvan, hugging him fiercely. "Good."  
***

Shiloh never did enjoy traveling by Aetheryte it always left her nauseous, knowing this she had barely eaten anything. She didn't want to port in front of the Lord of Crags and present him her digested lunch. Vesuvan paced and checked the sharpness of his axe, the straps of his armor, he lifted then lowered his visor, testing and retesting his equipment for the coming battle. This would be his first primal battle, and he was a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Few were the people who could claim to have killed a god, and though he didn't care much for glory the thought excited him.

"It's ready, go now." Y'shtola nodded to them maintaining her connection to the giant crystal shard.

Shiloh licked her lips, bracing herself for the ephemeral translocation. Her eyes were open but the world went dark as she felt her essence pulled through the Aether, her body, her soul broken down then reassembled. When she arrived she let out a breath a hand going directly to her stomach that was still churning. She felt Vesuvan's hand on her shoulder, felt it squeeze slightly letting her know he was there.

"You alright?" He asked lowly, scanning their location.

"I'm fine." She swallowed the bile, reassured by his presence.

They had been sent to a platform, high above a lake of lava. Large rocks with yellow crystalline veins littered the ground around them. To look at it Shiloh was sure they had been sent to the wrong place, save for the feeling of dread in her heart. The rocks shook and lifted, the ground beneath them bending to the will of the master assembling himself before them. The same hate and malevolence she had felt with Ifirit was there only amplified. Titan was stronger, much stronger than his fiery brother. That much she could tell by the pressure in the air. She was also painfully aware that there was nowhere for Vesuvan to run should he be targeted for tempering. The great Golem took a step forward shaking the platform, bits of earth falling off to be engulfed by the lava below. There was no alternative to victory today. Now that she saw their opponent, Shiloh wasn't sure how they could defeat a being of pure stone.

The Lord of Crags didn't allow for much thought, outraged at being discovered, he swung his arms causing a horizontal landslide, Vesuvan rolled out of the way easily, but Shiloh caught the full force of it and was hurled backwards against a small outcrop of rock. She felt her bones rattle and tasted blood in her mouth. Vesuvan threw himself at the beast, his axe sparking and grinding against the stone body, hunting for a weakness. Shiloh spit the blood from her mouth staining her teeth red, she gripped her staff and grit her teeth aiming for the same section of rock Vesuvan was hacking away at. The Aero found its way into the beasts chest, splitting the already loose stone. Vesuvan dug his axe in as deep as it would go, using himself as leverage to crack it open even more. He could see something glowing, pulsing beneath the stone, a heart, if he could get to it, and destroy it, then surely the primal would fall.

Shiloh channeled the air enhancing it, when the pressure around her brought her to her knees. Under her feet the ground shimmered, she tried to move but an impossible weight held her down. She felt as though she was falling and being crushed at the same time, the weight of the land pressing down on her. She screamed.

"Get it together, Private! You're better than this!" She heard Vesuvan's voice through the echo and blood filling her ear canal. She lifted herself up, her teeth bared. She had been so concerned with everyone's expectations of her, so concerned about her identity and her feelings. This was not the place for thinking, now was the time for instincts and power. She would melt his body in the lava below, and with that thought she willed the same earth below her to slam into its master. He wasn't the only one who could command the earth. She enhanced the slam with a gale of wind, pulling apart the casing of Titan's heart. Vesuvan growled a guttural war cry, hacking and kicking the pulsing stone. Titan screamed. This time when the landslide aimed at her, she rolled deftly to the side. She ran forward and filled the platform with bursting prismatic light, further chipping away at the heart. Titan shook Vesuvan off who fell with a thud, Shiloh filled him with a healing glow that would continue to regenerate and sustain, she cast it on herself and they both resumed the attack.

Vesuvan went into a berserking rage, feral and wild, she surrounded him with the power of air, his body forcing more stones out of Titan's chest. She bent the earth to her will, forcing it to stab and attack until the pulsing yellow heart fell out of the Primal, a gem split in two. The howl Titan released was deafening, bringing both Meqo'tes to their knees. Titan turned his gaze on Shiloh, and spoke in a grinding voice.

"The light does not shine here." He encased her in a stone prison. "I will grind you to dust." His gravelly voice echoed around her.

There was silence. Shiloh slammed her fists against the walls that encased her, she tried to force the stone to release her but it was Titan's will and would not heed her. The stone prison rendered her blind and deaf, the ground shook beneath her feet.

"VESUVAN." She screamed, her own voice dulled and deadened by the earth surrounding her.

She was entombed, buried alive, the air thick and slowly running out and panic began to overwhelm her. She clawed and punched, feeling nails break, and her knuckles bleeding and raw. She was knocked down, every inch of her prison vibrating and shaking, chips fell onto her head. A crack, then a stream of light, followed by the cacophony of falling rock and a growling Vesuvan as he broke her free of her prison. The air was still heavy but she gulped it in anyways before she was hauled to her feet by her partner.

"You're supposed to be the hero here, why am I doing all the work?" He chided with a half smile.

She looked around to discover over half the platform was gone, Titan slammed his foot down causing another outer ring to fall. He lifted the earth beneath him raising mountains, a wave of hard earth hurtling towards them. Shiloh lifted her hands and a wall of blue prisms stopped the attack. She lifted her rose eyes towards the monster bent on destroying them. The prisms began to crack and her rose eyes flared red. The magic barrier broke, but not before Shiloh lifted into the air the crystals light bursting from within her. She reached her hands out, finding Titan's elemental base, she started to pull.

"Vesuvan, help me." She spoke in an otherworldly voice, the same voice he had heard when she made the earth swallow Haukke Manor.

He nodded and ran forward, every swing creating sparks, he hacked at the golems center, as Shiloh who was infused with Hydalyn's strength tore the Primal in half, stone cracking, guttural voice screaming in agony. When Titan was split in two a gale force wind sent both halves into the lava, melting the earth, ending the Lord of the Crags rule.


	8. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Titan is defeated, but Shiloh was grievously injured. She heals slowly under Vesuvan's watchful and protective eye.

Shiloh woke up in clean linen sheets curled around her body, the scent in the air was damp but clean and a soft breeze blew from an open window. It was only when she turned her head that a shooting pain lanced through her head down her neck and spread to her shoulder and back, nerves and muscles complaining. She let out a sharp gasp at the unexpected pain. The last thing she remembered was Titan, split in two falling towards the lava pools of his lair, after that her memory went blank. She forced her eyes open, to survey the surroundings. She was in a simple room, in front she spied a door, to her side a wooden room divider, an armoire, an empty plate, and a full one still steaming with a side of fruit, her stomach growled. There was something wrapped around her forehead and when she lifted her hand to investigate she discovered so were her arms, bandages. She lifted the sheet covering her and saw that her torso was also bandaged. Her back and side tingled when she shifted and the pain in her head grew to a heavy pulse, she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose, why was she in so much pain, what had happened? Try as she might, Shiloh couldn't remember. The door groaned on its hinges when it opened, she forced her eyes open again, Vesuvan stepped out wrapped in a towel at the waist with another in his hands toweling off his damp hair.

"Welcome back." He gave her a lopsided grin before walking behind the room partition.

"Where did I go?" She asked with a small voice, her tongue felt too big for her mouth making her words sound slurred.

She turned her head towards the partition, and could see flashes of flesh through the breaks in the wood, she bit her lip and turned away. Vesuvan emerged in a pair of soft leather pants and a loose linen shirt that laced at the top, but he left it untied, and grabbed the food instead, bringing it to the table by her bed. He lowered her blankets and put strong arms around her, lifting her gently to a sitting position. Shiloh winced trying to stifle the whimper that wanted to escape her mouth. Where his arms had touched her back was now on fire, the sting bringing tears to her eyes.

"I'm sorry, your back got burned, and it's still tender." Vesuvan explained as he took a seat on Shiloh's bed.

"Did we win? Is Titan dead? I remember him falling, and then nothing." She looked at her bandaged hands, confused, she should heal herself.

"Yes, Shiloh, Titan is dead by your hands. It was after he fell, the cave started falling in on itself. You were hit by falling rocks; one of them had been heated by the lava, and trapped you. I got you out, but not before the damage was done. Y'shtola pulled us out before we were buried alive." He looked at her, with a pained look on his face. He took one of her bandaged hands in his. "She did what she could, Y'shtola treated you herself, but she's not as talented as you are, she said time will have to finish mending you."

She looked at the hand Vesuvan had taken, she tried to still her mind and concentrate, she was burned and bruised and perhaps worse. She tried reaching out to the elements, willing the familiar green glow to envelop her hand so that she might repair herself, but the voices, the connection was absent, there was nothing there. She spoke the incantations in her thick tongued haze, still no answer from the elements.

"You're weak, Shiloh, give it time and your powers will return to you. For now you're stuck healing like the rest of us." Vesuvan released her hand, and picked up the bowl of steaming porridge, scooping up a small spoonful and waited for her to open her mouth.

"I can feed myself." She scowled taking the bowl and spoon, but her hands were shaking and it took all of her strength not to drop it on herself. Vesuvan raised an eyebrow at her, and took them back, his point made. "This is stupid." She grumped, but opened her mouth when he brought the food up to her again.

After the porridge he peeled an orange, and sliced the melon, he held the cup of warm mulled tea to her lips for small sips and when she was done she was full, her belly warm, and she was utterly exhausted. Her pride was wounded and she could barely bring her eyes to meet Vesuvans.

"I'm just going to change you bandages, then you can go back to sleep." He spoke gently, his pale eyes had been so soft and patient, it almost made her miss the old gruff Vesuvan. She didn't know what to do with the one who looked at her with so much relief and tenderness, the one with the soft voice and the sweet touch. She only nodded, trying desperately not to blush, but the heat was already on her collar bone, creeping up her neck and cheeks, the tips of her ears tingled and twitched, her eyes not knowing where to look constantly drawn to the open collar of his shirt. She only nodded and let him start unwinding the bandages.

There was an ugly gash on her forehead, the palms of her hands and forearms all the way to the elbow were blistered and red. He added a poultice to her burns and wrapped them up again. He put her arms up on his shoulders, and her eyes widened, not knowing what he was doing, until he started unwinding the bandage around her torso. Exposed utterly, helpless, and so close, her face was a deep shade of red, a blush he could see covered her chest, her heartbeat making her breath shorter. She dared a look at his face, and could see he was doing his best not to look, to be a gentleman, his own cheeks a light pink, he was being so careful to only touch the bandage and not her skin. When he was done removing the bandages he met her eyes and the heat between them could have burned her all over again.

"I'm going to lay you on your side now." He spoke, licking his lips, she saw how his adam's apple bobbed nervously when he swallowed before speaking. His ears were twitching, trying to remain relaxed but they kept turning forward, alert, and intent on what was in front of him.

There was still a thick layer of gauze covering the worst of her wound, it wound from her back to her side, from shoulder blade to hip. He laid her down, before gently pulling away the last of her coverings. As soon as the air touched the area she winced and grit her teeth, her embarrassment at being half naked forgotten. Her entire side was on fire, red sunbursts bloomed in front of her eyes, and she tried her best to not cry out. Her bandaged hands clutched her pillow, but if she squeezed them to hard they exploded in pain as well, so she bit her pillow, and whimpered while he cleaned and then reapplied a poultice. When Vesuvan was done, and the bandages reapplied, tears streaked her face and she was breathing hard, the pain itself draining the last of her energy. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and brushed her blue and pink hair from her eyes. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering, as he inhaled her scent, trying to memorize it, even with the medicinal poultice on her, she smelled as sweet as cinnamon. He pulled away, leaving her to rest.

"Ves?" Shiloh called out, she didn't want him to go, even with how nervous and strange he made her feel when he was close, she liked it, she craved it. She just didn't know how to say it. He stopped and looked back at her waiting.

"Healing like the rest of you is for the birds." She finally said. He laughed his low rumble, and smiled showing her his dimples.

"Yeah it is." He agreed.  
***

Days stretched by, and Shiloh got stronger, she no longer needed help eating but Vesuvan sat with her while she ate anyways, handing her fruit each of them making any excuse they could for small touches, and contact. When she was strong enough he brought her outside. She sat on the edge of the hot spring dipping her feet in the earth warmed water. Even if she didn't submerge herself in the water, not wanting to submerge a burn in heat, the steam was rejuvenating. Vesuvan did go into the water, sitting beside her, reaching up at her ankle or calf every once in a while, as if to make sure she was still there. She played with his hair, combing her healing fingers through the thick blue and white. She felt almost normal, and she tried to call on the elements once more. This time they answered her like the old friends they were and she directed their healing inward, the dull pulse that was her burn eased, she sighed relief. Vesuvan looked up from where he had been sitting and leaning his head against her leg. To see her covered in a green glow. When the glow abated he was standing, the steam coiling off of his body.

"Did you heal yourself?" He asked, trying to keep excitement from his voice, trying to keep the hunger in his eyes in check.

"I think so. It doesn't hurt anymore." She answered with a smile.

"You should go check." He said, taking a step closer to her.

"I'm going to need help with the bandages." She answered with a blush, but she kept her eyes on his.

"Lead the way." Vesuvan licked his lips and his eyes had a feralness to them that sent a shiver down her spine.

They entered their room, the scent of the burn poultice still hung in the air, even with the open window and the breeze. It was very quiet; she heard Vesuvan breathing behind her, and the door latching shut. She was nervous and hugged herself, the pain was gone, but the familiar nervousness returned, every time he had changed her bandages over the last three days she blushed, she jumped if an errant finger found her skin, partly out of excitement, partly out of fear of her burn being handled. She listened as his steps got closer, she smelled the scent of the hot springs on him, he was still damp, his swimming trunks making a puddle on the floor behind her. Shiloh could feel the heat from Vesuvan's bare chest, even though he wasn't touching her, he was close and his energy, his presence drew her in. She lifted her arms, not needing to rest them weakly on his shoulders anymore, it was an invitation this time. She didn't dare turn around to face him, to look into those pale blue eyes that undid her, she would lose all courage then. So she kept her back to him and drew in a deep breath when he began unwinding the bandages. She held her hands together waiting, the only sound was the fabric moving and winding and their breathing.

Finally the bandages fell to the ground, and Shiloh was left exposed, goosebumps covered her flesh, her blush consuming her torso and face, hot and cold at the same time. Vesuvan knelt behind her, peeling away the sticky gauze and washed the area with tepid water. He was as gentle as he always was, careful in case the wound wasn't fully healed, but the stinging pain that the air normally caused never came, and as layers of oily poultice was washed off, his cleaning became more insistent. She wasn't crying out in pain, or whimpering, both of them confident she had done exactly as she said she had, and healed herself. The skin had grown back, a reddish pink, with some uneven swirling bumps, there would be a scar, but she was healed. Vesuvan, still kneeling took her waist in her hands and brought his lips to the fresh scar and kissed it.

"All better." He whispered

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she sighed her answer. He stood up, taking the hands that still hung in the air in his, bring them back down to her sides. He brushed the hair off of the back of her neck and seared her with his lips again, kissing the back and side of her neck. His hands found her waist again and pulled her close, so that she could feel his chest, so that she could feel him, and the effect she had on him. He kissed down her neck to her shoulder, she turned her head to offer better access and she felt his teeth within his kisses. One hand went from her waist and travelled up her belly until it cupped her small breast, fingers dancing lightly against the pale pink nub. A low growl escaped his mouth resonating against her skin. His other hand left her waist and found the top of her tail, he gave it a quick yank, then moved it aside so he could better feel her, so she could better feel him. It elicited a sharp surprised cry, before he nudged her head over so he could start kissing the other side of her neck. She leaned heavily on him, her legs barely able to hold her weight, she felt dizzy, she wanted to kiss him back so badly, but all she could do was grasp desperately at the belt loops on his shorts, and breathe.

All Shiloh had to do was turn around, turn around and kiss him, turn around and give in. No man had ever touched her way Vesuvan was touching her at that moment, and it thrilled her, but the nervousness remained. She didn't know what to do, where to touch, what to kiss, or how, or when. She was a puddle of pudding, desperately trying to hold on, while his lips and fingers explored her skin, and drove her mad. All she could do was sigh, gasp and moan, and he was only kissing her and fondling a breast.

"V-Ves." She finally managed to pant out.

"Mmm?" He hummed his answer against her skin, but his hands stopped their torrid dance, giving her a moment of peace to collect her thoughts.

Shiloh turned in his arms so she could face him, or hide from him. Her hands rested against his chest and she leaned her head on his shoulder, still too shy and nervous to look him in the eyes. His arms circled her waist, drawing small circles on her lower back. It felt good to be here with him. The moment was one of the most wonderful and terrifying experiences she had ever had. She just needed to breathe, to let the haze lift, if only for a moment. She was shaking from adrenaline and nerves. The small circles turned into long sweeping movements a soothing and comforting motion.

"It's ok, if you're not ready, it's ok, we stop. Don't be afraid Shiloh, I won't hurt you." He cooed into her ear in his low baritone.

"No." She shook her head, and finally forced her eyes up to look into his. "I don't want to stop. I just…needed a minute. I don't know what I'm doing, but I don't want it to end…not yet."

He smiled at her, brushing some hair from her face, he looked to be at the edge of words, but decided against it, kissing her instead, this time claiming her lips. He didn't hold back his passion, he stole her breath, he explored her mouth, he tasted and inhaled as much of her as he could. Her own arms circled his neck, pulling him down towards her, wanting more; taking everything he was giving, savoring the length of his body against hers, the heat of him. He lifted her, holding her bottom and laid her on his bed. In one hand he took her hands, and held them above her head, with the other he touched, tracing out the path his lips took shortly after. She was so lost in sensation that she almost missed the linkshell in her ear click on, but the sounds that filled both their ears stopped them dead.

Gunshots rang out, she heard the sounds of dying men and women, she heard a scream and a beg for mercy, Minfillia's voice, the sound cut off abruptly, leaving the two half-dressed Miqo'tes staring.

"They're under attack. Vesuvan, we have to go to them." Shiloh wiggled from beneath him scrambling to find the new robe Y'shtola had left her. It was long and ornate, in the Vanya style. Vesuvan nodded.

"We'll take the Aetheryte to Uldah, and ride to Vesper bay from there." Already Vesuvan was thinking of a dozen different scenarios and reactions, plans upon plans. Was it pirates? Ascians? Worse? Had the scions been the target, or the trading town of Vesper Bay as a whole, had Horizon been compromised. He pulled on his armor, the moment of passion hardly forgotten, simply filed away for another time.

"Horizon is closer!" Shiloh argued, in the long black and crimson robe, buttoning and fastening.

"Horizon may already be taken, if it's pirates or brigands, they would go after the closest Aetheryte as a matter of course. I won't have us travel into a city only to be cut down before we finish materializing. Uldah is safer, we should know right away if Horizon's been taken, and we'll be able to join the Immortal Flames in their counter attack. The scions are allied to all, and the Flame General would not let such an action go unpunished in his own lands. We'll save them Shiloh." Vesuvan finished donning his armor and caught Shiloh by her shoulders, looking at her hard. "Are you strong enough to fight?"

"I am." Shiloh nodded.

"Let's go." He lowered his visor, and they made their way towards the giant glowing crystal at the center of town.


	9. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vesuvan and Shiloh reach Horizon too late, the Scion's have been taken, and the Echo has given Shiloh a glimpse into what happened revealing an unexpected face.

Vesper bay was oddly calm. Merchants and sailors went about their usual business, the sea sparkled in the late afternoon sun. Shiloh heard a child laugh, and a young dancer set up her parasol and a bard started strumming a tune for her to dance to. Had they heard right? There had been gunfire, the sounds of death as clear as if they had been there themselves. They approached the Waking Sands, apprehensive. Vesuvan unslung his axe before placing his hand on the door, pushing it open. They were welcomed by a deafening silence. As quiet as they were being, their footsteps echoed on the stone steps leading into the Scions sanctum. The second door was slowly opened; Shiloh saw the first unmoving body on the floor. She was a healer, her entire being was pulled forward to see if she could save the soul on the floor, but Vesuvan grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back.

"Stay behind me." He whispered harshly, waiting for an ambush. The Garleans were here, and he had a sneaking suspicion they were after his charge, and he would be damned if he was going to let them have her. He had seen enough war and fighting to know that there was no hope for the boy on the floor, the blood was cool and sticky, he was long dead.

"I can heal him." She tried to pull free, blinded by guilt and rising grief.

"Shiloh, he's dead, you know as well as I do." He ground out, forcing her pink eyes into his, he held her still, probably squeezing a little too hard on her arm, he would leave a bruise. "I need you to follow orders right now, I need you to think, you can fall apart later, when we're safe. Stay. Behind. Me." He let her go only after she nodded, and mumbled a quiet yes.

They made their way forward, checking every room and closet, every darkened corner, finding nothing but dead Scions, the occasional dead Garlean soldier. Vesuvan's face was grim, he didn't look back at Shiloh, but she remained silent, sometimes kneeling to feel for a pulse that had run out hours ago. They were too late.

When they finally reached Minfillia's room, both Shiloh and Vesuvan's faces were drawn. Shiloh's face twisted when she spied the tiny Sylph laying prone on the floor. Then the impossible happened, and the bundle of leaves took a breath, a small hand reaching up towards her. Shiloh pushed passed Vesuvan, kneeling beside her small friend, taking her hand. She tried calling on the elements to heal Frixio, but to no avail, she was one of the beast tribes, and their healing methods, and medicine, their overall physiology differed so greatly from what Shiloh knew. She could not identify what was what, let alone fix what needed mending. In that moment Shiloh felt so helpless, that frustrated tears burned down her cheeks. She held the leafy hand gently afraid that the least bit of pressure would quicken Frixio's inevitable death.

"I'm here. It's ok now, Frixio." Shiloh whispered through the lump in her throat.

Shiloh's eyed blurred again, but this time it wasn't the tears, it was a familiar pull, and she held her head preparing for the vision that would soon overwhelm her. She blinked hard until the world around her took on sepia tones, and she observed the hell that had overtaken the Waking Sands hours earlier. They had been looking for her. Shiloh felt bile rising in her throat as her allies and friends denied the Garlean invaders any and all information about her whereabouts or actions. She watched as Minfillia told Frixio information about a safe house in Thanalan where Shiloh could find refuge before they barged into her office. Information the fellow Echo user had every confidence would reach Shiloh. She wanted the vision to stop, she had seen enough, adding the gruesome visuals to the sounds she had heard via linkshell.

The vision persisted, she saw Yda break free. The normally bubbly and happy pugilist, bearing her teeth like an animal, fighting with everything she had. The armored leader raised only a finger and a single soldier approached, catching each fist in gauntleted hands, she heard the snap of delicate finger bones, and Yda cry out. Minifillia was begging her headstrong friend to stop, Papalymo called to his longtime partner, desperation in his voice, while he held a shaking and frightened Tataru. The soldier took advantage of Yda's momentary distraction, and his own fists and knees found her. She was knocked senseless on the floor, and the room erupted in a chorus of cursing and begging. The soldier circled kicking the fallen Scion, heavy boots breaking ribs. The normally smiling face, with the face visor and turban was revealed, and delicate eyes were swelling, a broken nose bled. The soldier picked her up by fine blond hair and the glint of a knife flashed in the light. The soldier held it at Yda's throat, and then he looked to his commander.

"That will be enough Voja. We want them alive, and she will no longer be able to run. Stay your hand." The female white armor clad commander spoke in a cool tone.

Shiloh felt her heart pounding in her head. Voja, she knew that name.

"Of course commander." He lowered the knife sliding it neatly back into his belt.

He dropped Yda on the floor in a heap and nodded to another set of soldiers, whose new job it would be to carry her. He removed his half helm, revealing ice blue eyes, twitching ears, his tail swished with adrenaline. Voja Nijian, Vesuvan's older brother. Older, battle worn, malevolent and cruel, he wiped Yda's blood off of his hands on a nearby corpse.

"Did you find your quarry Captain?" The Garlean commander gave a hand signal that they were to leave, talking companionably to Vesuvan's traitor brother.

"No more then you found yours Commander. I'm starting to think our ally may not be as good as he's led us to believe." He ran his hands through dark grey hair.

"That still remains to be seen. Come." She strode down the hallway. Voja gave her an informal salute and followed after, smirk on his face.  
***

Vesuvan was on edge, the Waking Sands was empty save for the cooling corpses littering the floor, it felt too much like a trap. The hairs on the back of his neck were up. Still he kept vigilant watch over Shiloh while she was in the Echo's thrall. Seeing Crystal knows what. She was still, long steady breathes leaving her slightly parted lips, she no longer passed out thanks to her visions, although she was just as vulnerable. He watched the door, despite how much he longed to look at her face, memories of the brief moments in the warm hotel room flitted into his mind's eye. Memories of what she tasted like, how she had felt under his hands, warred with duty. She had been so responsive, nervous but yielding, he bit the inside of his cheek. It had been so different with her, nothing at all like the dancers and escorts he usually spent time with. Every kiss, every touch had been so honest, from both of them. While he had unwound the bandages from her he had felt his own walls, his own internal armor dropping. He respected her, her abilities, her power, he wanted all of her and gil paid company would no longer satisfy him. Vesuvan exhaled quietly, his emotions for his Scion partner frightened him when he stopped to think about it. Kissing her felt so right, touching her even more so, and he wasn't sure what that meant, he wasn't sure he wanted to define it. He heard her shift and turned around to see her rise to her feet.

"Shiloh." He looked at her, glancing briefly at the Sylph. Silently asking if there was any hope, she shook her head.

"We need to go. There's a safe house." Her face was haunted, her eyes far away, her words clipped and cool. "We can talk then. It's not safe here." He caught her rose hues for a half second and all he saw was turmoil.

Shiloh left the Waking Sands expecting to meet with Garleans at any moment. They had been after her, so it made sense that they would come back looking for her, expecting her to return at some point. Once outside, she scanned the small town, looked to every corner and rooftop looking for something or someone out of place, she could feel Vesuvan's eyes on her back and she tensed. Perhaps the Garleans had sent word when they first arrived, back when she was too caught up in her emotions to think it was a trap. What would Vesuvan do when she told her how close his brother was, that Voja had been looking for him. She could only assume that was the target he had been talking about. The sun was setting as they reached Horizon. Who was this ally? She refused to think of the implications. These were her friends, they wouldn't.

"Sand storm coming, best to find lodging for the night then go out in this!" The gate guard hollered at them, as he unhinged the town gates, setting to work closing them.

"We're only going to Uldah, it's not far, but thanks for the warning!" She gave the guard a genial, albeit fake smile while she lied to him. If anyone asked after them, they would be sent in the wrong direction.

She pulled a swath of cloth out of her pack and tied it around her face, to keep the sand out of her mouth, Vesuvan did the same. If he wondered why they didn't take the Aetherite, it was probably because he was thinking the same thing she was. Aether memory. The towns that had the large glowing crystals installed charged user fees, and one way to ensure payment for travel was through Aether memory. It would be a quick and simple thing to discover an Aetherite Crystals last known travellers. Travelling by Chocobo, while more dangerous, particularly in a sandstorm, would throw off even the best trackers.

"You going to tell me where we're going?" He brought Hex up beside her, his hair tied up in a bandana, his face covered.

"Camp Drybone, the church of Saint Andama Landama." She dug her heel into Dexter and urged him into the desert, and the cold howling wind.

They travelled through the night, stopping only briefly to water their birds, or to wait out the worst of the storm. The church was not with the rest of the town built in a natural canyon, but up on a hill surrounded by a large lichyard. It was late, even if the sky wasn't a perfect black, but rather it held an ominous orange tint if you cared to look up to see past the screaming sand and wind. They left their Chocobo's with the town's keeper who was more than irritated to be woken to tend to two tired birds at that hour. Despite the scarves they wore, sand had invaded Shiloh and Vesuvan's every pore, Shiloh could feel the grind between her teeth, her eyes were red, her skin felt gritty.

Shiloh stopped at the door, the feeling of urgency, and danger never far behind her, she knocked hard and loud, waited a few seconds, then knocked again, until the door creaked open revealing a bleary eyed priest.

"Sanctuary." She spoke the word, though not desperately there was an edge in her voice. They were admitted right away.

"Come in, come in. Let me get you some water to rinse the sand from your mouths." The priest went to a far corner of the room, turning his back on his late night visitors.

From the looks of the interior of the church, he had no need to fear thieves, as there was nothing to steal. It was a humble and simple establishment, crude sandstone, and wooden carvings of the 12 on the dais, and rows of wooden pews, a ceramic water jug, and clay cups. Shiloh stood until he returned drinking from the offered cup gratefully.

"Now tell me, traveller. What brings you to this humble place on a night like tonight?" He indicated to the closest pew, indicating they should sit.

"I go whilst the wild roses grow, and they no longer grow in Vesper Bay." Shiloh spoke the cryptic words; using the code word she had been taught, identifying herself as a Scion to what was supposed to be an ally.

The priest's eyes grew wide. "Scions have always been welcome within these walls. What do you mean they no longer grow?"

Shiloh recounted the horror they had encountered earlier that day. Vesuvan held his silence, and nodded only when Shiloh explained who he was.

"We need somewhere safe to stay until we can figure out a plan of action, I'm fairly new to the organization, but I suppose it would stand to reason that other survivors might seek out this place as well." The travel, shock and emotions were catching up with her, she was tired. All she wanted to do was find a bed to collapse in.

"Of course child. Minfillia and Thancred both are well loved by the people of Drybone. Allow me a moment to write a quick letter of introduction, I have no doubt Mimi will be able to give you a warm bed, and a clean room to stay in." With that he went to a small desk, and pulled out paper and ink.

True to his word they were given a key and ushered into a small inn room that had been built directly inside the canyon's wall. The room itself was little more than a cave with a bed, and a small bedside table. This part of the desert had no running water, but they were afforded a water basin and two wash clothes.

They cleaned themselves as best they could in silence, Shiloh avoiding Vesuvan's questioning gaze. Shiloh could still feel the grit of sand under her clothes, if she ran her hand through her hair she could still feel the miniscule grains embedded near her scalp. She grabbed her sleeping clothes and opened up the screen provided, the only privacy in the tiny room and got changed. She didn't know how she was going to tell Vesuvan that Voja was now an element in their current problem. He had told her in no uncertain terms of his deeply rooted desire for revenge. Voja, the older brother who had driven Vesuvan's ability to form close and trusting relationships away, who had done so much damage to not only her partner but to Gridania as a whole. They had been growing closer, he meant something to her, and she knew that she meant something to him as well, that much was obvious after the time they spent together while she recovered from her encounter with Titan. The Nijian brothers had the same nearly white blue eyes, luminous in the dark, and it had jarred her to see those eyes hold such a cruel and sadistic edge. She was also terrified of vocalizing what Voja had said about the ally, she refused to believe it, and if she said it out loud to Vesuvan the possibility that she had been betrayed would become real.

Shiloh sat on the edge of the bed, having moved in the same half daze that had gotten her here, away from the Waking Sands. The mattress sunk beside her and she felt Vesuvan's distinct warmth and scent beside her. His eyes were on her, he had held his silence, giving her space to process, but she had a feeling he wasn't going to let the silence hold much longer.

"Shiloh, talk to me. Look at me. What happened?" His voice was quiet but commanding, and it was enough to make her look at him. There was concern in his features, his jaw flexing as he waited for her to answer. He wasn't a patient man, but he was trying.

"They were there for me. They kidnapped, hurt and killed The Scions…my friends, because of me. What's worse is that they all would have died if I had actually been there." Shiloh balled her fists, pressing her nails tightly to her palms, almost willing them to break the skin. Her rose eyes flicked down, having a hard time holding Vesuvan's pale gaze.

Vesuavan's large calloused hands hesitated, before covering one of her balled fists, easing it off of her lap, willing her fingers to unfurl so he could hold her hand, his other hand went to her chin tilting her head up so he could see her. "I know it hurts right now, Shiloh, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, and I need you to do your best to try and detach from the emotions. The more tactical information we have, then the better chance we have of rescuing everyone who was taken."

His voice was quiet, the fact that he was being the commander, the soldier right now was more comforting then any kind of empty soothing words he could have said. Shiloh understood why he was asking this now, the vision was still new and fresh in her mind, the details still crisp, not muddled by sleep. She nodded to him, squeezing his hand slightly. His eyes softened and he squeezed back.

"The people of Vesper Bay hadn't even known there was a squad of Garleans there, do you know if there's an alternate entrance? Did you manage to glimpse how they got in and out?"

Shiloh furrowed her brow, rifling through the images, straining to see past the end of her vision, when Voja and The female Commander had left. "I didn't see how they got in, or out. As far as I know there is only one entrance."

Vesuvan licked his lips and nodded. "If they were after you it would make sense that they take Minfilia, who else did they take prisoner?"

"Papalymo, Tataru, Y'Shtola, Urianger, and Yda. Yda was beaten…severely." The name of her abuser hanging onto the tip of her tongue.

Again Vesuvan nodded his head, his eyes darkening slightly. "So those Twins, Alfred, and Ali..something, and Thancred weren't there. I would have recognized their bodies." It was a statement more than a question.

"Alphinaud and Alisaie, are both on assignment, so was Thancred…I think. He must have been. If this is the safe house, I'm sure we'll be seeing them all soon." Shiloh cocked her head, thinking, finding her focus coming easier now that she was talking about it, the thought that either of Louisoix's grandchildren had a hand in the devastation was so wrong, and Thancred, charming Thancred always willing to help. She bit her lower lip, and moved her free hand to take Vesuvan's. "There's something else you should know…" She took a deep breath, "Voja was there. He was the one who…hurt Yda. From what he said, it sounded like he was looking for you."

His older brother's name made Vesuvan flinch, his mouth went dry. "What do you mean, what did he say?" His voice barely above a whisper, his eyes nearly wild in their intensity.

Shiloh told him of the exchange and Vesuvan stood up, running his hand through long and loose hair, he let out a barking laugh full of bitterness.

"The Scions were betrayed." The taste of the word was bile on his tongue, it all felt too familiar for it not to be.

Shiloh's face fell at the words she had been dreading, the ring of truth hurting worse than any blade.


	10. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiloh and Vesuvan find solace with one another, finally giving into the growing passion that has grown between them. A comfort to love and trust in a world gone mad.

Shiloh wasn't sleeping, her back was to him on the narrow bed, the thin blankets shifted behind her, her tail still swishing in annoyance. Tap, tap, tap, against his own tail, her tail fur was so much thicker than his own, longer, softer and easily fluffier. It felt like someone was assaulting him with a feather duster. His own tail was long and thin, with a tuft of fur at the very end. She sighed again, and Vesuvan closed his eyes, feeling them burn from too little moisture and fatigue. Tap, Tap, Tap. He was trying to be patient, doing his best to be understanding of her feelings and turbulent emotions. He was a soldier and no stranger to death, she was a healer and he knew she didn't have a one hundred percent success rate. They were her friends, he got that, he really did. Tap, Tap, Tap. His eyes snapped open and his long thin tail wrapped itself around Shiloh's restless one, holding it still. He felt it struggle to move entwined as it was with his own.

"Go to sleep, Shiloh." Vesuvan's deep voice rumbled, an order.

"I'm trying." She rasped out, annoyed.

"Try harder." Her tail really was unbelievably soft.

"I can't stop thinking of…"

"Stop thinking, thinking isn't going to help our situation. Go. To. Sleep." He turned his head over his shoulder in the pitch black room, the tired bed springs creaked loudly.

"I can't just turn my mind off!" She argued back, the bed shifted again, springs groaning. Her tail pulled away from his with a yank. Vesuvan's brow furrowed at the loss.

"Yes you can, you just don't know where the off switch is." He fully rolled onto his back this time, now feeling her flush against him. She had propped herself up on her elbows, he heard a quick intake of breath. He thought of twenty four hours ago, bandages , unwrapping her slowly, tasting her, and he smirked wickedly in the dark. "I think I may be able to find it though."

"What are you talking about?" She squeaked when Vesuvan rolled, grabbing her by the waist and positioned her beneath him.

Vesuvan could see her eyes, luminous in the absence of light, as all Miqo'te eyes were, he could barely make out the outlines of her face, her lips. He adjusted his body weight fitting one leg between hers, resting on an elbow, allowing his other hand to trace the contours of her face in the dark.

"Talk, tell me what you're thinking." He told her in a low voice, his hand reaching up to the velvet of her ears, stroking them gently. They twitched under his touch.

"Vesuvan." Her breath caught in her throat, his touch was deliberate and soft, her ears burned and twitched after each quiet stroke. "This isn't the time…you're being inappropriate." Her voice came out pleading instead of assertive. She brought her hands to his chest, it was smooth, with a light dusting of wirey blue hair, she could feel his steady heartbeat through her fingers, she felt his heat. When his hand started to move down her face, when his thumb brushed against her lips she gasped, not knowing if she wanted him to stop or not, her mind and her heart, her entire body pulling in opposite directions. "How can you think touching me like this is ok, considering everyone is dead…or captured. If I had been quicker, if we had been there sooner, I could have at least saved some of them…If….If I wasn't so…weak." Shiloh's cheeks felt warm, her heart was pounding in her ears. She brought a hand up to stop his from roaming. He didn't push further letting his fingers caress where she had stopped him, right below her jaw.

"Mmm, so what can we do, right now, in this moment that will help the current situation? We've planned out a course of action. What else can we do, right now?" His breath puffed across her skin, he let his lips touch the other side of her jaw, and he inhaled, taking in her scent, cinnamon and desert flowers, mingled with sweat and sand. He felt her shiver beneath him.

"We should rest…but I can't sleep, I'm trying…I just…keep thinking." Shiloh's grip on his wandering hand lessened and she stretched her neck, craning it to allow his lips more room to move. His breath was warm, his lips soft, and when he spoke in reverberated against her body. He smelled like steel and leather and sweat and it was driving her to madness.

"And that's our problem isn't it. All your pent up anxious and frustrated energy, you analyzing and re-analyzing, thinking this mess is somehow your fault, thinking about the things you think you could have done. Letting your guilt get the best of you." His tongue darted out against her jaw, she made a sound, something he could only describe as a whimper, his wandering hand itched where it was, just below her breast. He felt her hip move against the leg he had wedged between hers. He swallowed the groan at the back of his throat. "Those thoughts won't serve us, won't serve you, so I'm putting an end to them."

His mouth trailed along her face until he found her mouth. She was about to say something but he swallowed the words up when he kissed her. It was hard and demanding, his tongue insisting on entrance, where he tasted and dominated her. He wouldn't give her a moment to breath let alone think. His hand cupped her breast, tugging the shirt down and finding the hard little nub rolling it in his fingers. He swallowed every gasp, and moan that bubbled from her throat. Her hips were grinding against him. Her small hands fisted in his hair trying to pull him closer bruising both of their lips, she answered his kiss with everything she had, and when she nipped his lower lip he growled, crushing her against him. He shifted, nudging her legs open to allow his hips a place between her legs, her maddening grinding was now against his length. The kiss broke and they were both panting.

"You are not weak." His voice was reduced to a dark rasp.

Shiloh was overwhelmed; in a matter of moments there was nothing in her mind except his hands, his lips and his voice, and how much she wanted him. His mouth traveled down to her collar bone tracing the outlines, nipping at her skin, every touch shooting electricity to her center, and adding to her need for release. She felt him hard between her legs, her panties and his loose linen sleeping pants acting as frustrating barriers. She writhed wantonly beneath him, lost to sensation, in the dark of the room she didn't feel the nervousness or embarrassment she had the day earlier. There was no light, or mirror here, only touch and taste and scent. So she felt no shame as she ground against his length, she felt pure exhilaration when his tongue and mouth covered her breast and she pulled his head against her. When she stroked and tugged at his soft velvet ears and he groaned against her skin, her back arched. It thrilled her knowing he was reacting to her, that her touch could pull those sounds out of him. She raked her nails across his back, and his teeth clamped onto her hardened nipple, and the pain shot to her core, and she cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Fingers slid beneath her panties between wet folds, and he traced lightly, circling the apex of it all, a small and hard little nub pulsing with need.

"What are you thinking about, Shiloh? Tell me exactly what's on your mind." His voice was thick and predatory.

"I…you. I want. Touch me. Please." Making words, let alone complete sentences was beyond her ability.

"I am touching you." He teased, pleased that he had managed to turn off her mind, but not ready to stop, not even close.

"Not…that's not….Ves…please!" Her words came out in a moan as she bucked her hips trying to get his fingers to touch exactly where she wanted, and whimpered when he avoided her tactic. His dark chuckle only made her whimper more.

"Show me." He mumbled against her ear, teeth grazing against the velvety twitching appendage.

Shiloh's fingers released the vice grip in his hair and found his hand, Vesuvan's hands were slick and wet as she guided him to her maddening pulsing center. He slid the tips of his fingers along her hardened clit, and Shiloh saw stars in front of her eyes.

"There. Twelve save me, right there." She gasped out, her legs wanting to clamp down, her hips bucking in time.

Vesuvan moaned, he pulled her hand away, putting her fingers in his mouth and sucked them, tasting her. His entire body shifted when he was done, his hand moved away from her button to be replaced by his tongue, while one finger slid past her folds to her core. His other arm held her down, controlling her hips. He lapped her up, her inner walls fluttering around his finger, his erection twitched, almost painfully, he slid a second finger inside of her, and sucked on her sensitive button, and relished the sound of her moans turning into screams, the way his name was panted out of her mouth like a mantra. He moved his tongue and fingers faster, and her sweet mouth started swearing, words that would have made any pirate proud until even those devolved into broken cries and moans. Her walls tightened and he increased the pressure of his tongue, until there was no sound left in her, and she silently screamed out her climax, her back arched off the bed, her fingers dug painfully into his scalp. He slowed his pace but didn't stop until he felt her relax around him. He brought himself back up, kissing her, more gently this time, letting her taste herself on his tongue, her body full of short tremors as she came down from her orgasm. Her fingers went to his waistband, and he growled into the kiss, stopping her hands.

"Are you sure?" He whispered. He felt her face nod against his.

"Yes." She whispered back, kissing his cheek and jaw, her hands pulling at his pants.

It took all his self-control not to take her roughly, painfully aware that he was her first. He eased himself in, one hand on her hip, bracing himself on his forearm, head bowed into the crook of her neck, her pulse fluttering against his lips. He sheathed himself to the hilt with a low groan, he nipped and sucked on her pulse, he gave her time to adjust, he heard her gasp but he didn't hear any trace of pain in her voice. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her hips moved beneath him, she sighed his name. He felt the intense softness of her tail on his leg, and he was moving too. Her hands were in his hair, pulling his face into her neck and he bit down on the junction between shoulder and neck, feral and possessive, growling as he claimed her, both of their actions based on instinct. She arched under him, her nails finding purchase in the skin of his back, and she raked him, leaving long jagged lines. He moved faster, harder, her teeth found his shoulder and she bit back, marking him the same way he had marked her. Mine.

She was the goddess he had seen sink a house into the ground, who had split Titan in two and sent him to the abyss. All her unbridled passion was released in a torrent, her hidden self, her true self, unhindered by expectations and uncertainty, and Vesuvan took everything she gave, returning everything he had. He was drunk on her sounds, her scent, her molten heat and the way he felt utterly consumed by her. His pace quickened when he felt her tighten around him, her cries reaching a new peak, his lips found hers and he drank her in as her entire body stilled and shook, her folds milking him until he found his own release. He came undone, eyes rolling as he emptied himself into her. He collapsed, her arms twined around his neck weakly and he nuzzled her neck, kissing where he had bitten. He slid out of her.

He rolled over pulling her with him until he lay on his back and she was half draped over him. He stroked her hair and ears idly, on the verge of sleep. He glanced down, and saw her luminous eyes looking back at him, he kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent again.

"So what are you thinking about now, Shiloh?" He rumbled out in a hoarse voice.

"That we should have done this a long time ago." She murmured back.

Vesuvan chuckled, nodding his agreement. "Now, go to sleep."

"Yes sir."

They slept, exhausted, too tired to notice the tendrils of purple back smoke recede from their room into the hall way. Too tired to hear the tap of boot and the rustle of the portal opening and closing.  
***

They stood in the church, restless, no other Scions had arrived in the night, or that morning, they had arrived in the early afternoon, having slept late. Waking up in Vesuvan's arms had been different, comfortable; she had woken up feeling not only rested but safe. He had slept with an arm around her, and his face nestled lightly in her hair. His even breath on her sensitive ears is what finally woke her. He was in his armor now, both literally and figuratively. One of the twins, Alphinaud, was upsetting the acolyte at the church, forcing unwanted memories into the man's head. Vesuvan's white blue eyes were cold and sharp once again, the warm hazy sparkle had been reserved for her alone, a look of unfiltered affection, tracing the marks he had left on her, studying every detail under the soft light of the lamp. The urgency of his kiss had turned lazy and drawn out, he told her how beautiful she was, and he smiled and laughed when she blushed, prompting more kissing and soft words to colour her cheeks once again. She watched him now, stern and hard as stone, his axe menacing even slung on his back, suspicious, condescending as he explained to the young elezen twin that there had most likely been a betrayal, Alphinaud and the acolyte, Cid, sobered. Vesuvan asked the Scion what they were going to do, how would they protect Shiloh, how would they act in the face of this knowledge. Alphinaud fancied himself a tactician, Vesuvan had his own ideas, but wanted to gauge if the other two could even be trusted based on the words the child would speak.

Speak he did, Alphinaud outlined a plan that would take them into Ishgard, that would bring them face to face with yet another Primal, Garuda. That they would need to first uncover Cid's airship, a relic from the battle of Cartineau. Shiloh bristled, and became angry when there was no word of rescue, or retribution for their fallen and captured comrades.

"To the hells with Garuda, what about our friends, your sister? Minfillia? We need to go after them!" She had cried.

"And we will my friend, but if what you and your companion say is true, then they will be expecting such a move, as it stands this refuge is no longer safe. You must leave, we are still Scions, and Garuda is a very real threat. Eorzea will be given a very loud message when she is defeated, that we are still a force to be reckoned with. We will find Minfillia and the others, but if we have any hope at all in taking them back, you must be far from their clutches now. Coerthas is not somewhere the Garleans would trespass lightly." Alphinaud, in all of his haughty and arrogant glory was right. Shiloh nodded in agreement. Vesuvan grunted, as much as he disliked the young elezen, he was right, and the plan was a good one, his doubts were quieted, for now.

They left the church, the heat was blazing and nearly visible. Beads of sweat formed on their brows almost instantly. "I'll contact my cousin in the highlands, see if he can point us on some leads."

"Alright, Let's take the Aertheryte at dusk, there's more traffic then, it will be more difficult to track us in the event we are followed." Shiloh added.

Vesuvan only nodded as they descended into the natural canyon that Camp Drybone was built around. He grabbed her gently by the elbow and steered her into an alley and kissed her. "You really need to have a proper bath. I can still smell myself all over you, I can smell us, and it is driving me to distraction." He kissed her again. He never wanted to stop kissing her.

Shiloh reciprocated, melting into him, surprised he would dare to show his vulnerability, his affection for her in public, even if they were hidden. In a town with severe water rations, it had been difficult to clean herself, to tidy the mess they had made on each other. Their room still held the heady scent of their ardor. The kiss ended quickly and Vesuvan strolled away, back straight, menacing in his plate and axe. She followed quickly, cheeks flushed and licking her lips, wanting more than a brief glimpse of the man who had exposed his soul to her the night before, she walked, attempting to look as casual and powerful as he did, sure that she fell short. They made their way back to their room to gather their things, and wait out the heat of the day, the second the door latched behind them, Shiloh went to work peeling his armor off, both literally and figuratively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am unlikely to finish this piece. Shiloh and Ves are now both Au Ra and their entire characters are being reworked. I'm debating taking this down completely, so fair warning to readers. There will be more adventures with Shiloh and Ves, but more 3.0 centric, and Au Ra.


End file.
